Under My Skin
by LouBlue
Summary: Sequel to 'Love Potion #9'. Olicity are trial dating (warning, high levels of fluff). Everything is going great until something from Felicity's past surfaces (yes, that old trope, but bear with, I'll try & catch you off guard). The repercussions are big & hairy... sorry, typo... scary. Subplot: Diggle & Roy deal with the Bunny situation (spoiler alert - there's a body count).
1. Chapter 1

**A/N****: Hola, peeps, I'm back! Ringing in a New Year with the first chapter of my next story. Hank is still unconscious from his choice of ringing in the New Year. He went on a bender for the ages. A LOT of things have been defiled in an alcoholic haze. In a related note, I now need a new toaster, tub of butter and my Elsa doll needs a lot of councilling… and I mean a lot. It might be easy singing about 'Let It Go' but it's a lot harder when you've been Hanked… and have the wildly inappropriate tattoos to remind you of the whole sorry night of debauchery. Fernando Del Vecchio didn't fare much better. You wouldn't think you could fit an entire llama into your standard household microwave, but apparently you can. Thank heavens the door wouldn't shut though. Don't like to think how that could have ended if Hank had managed it… not well, that's how. **

**My New Years was far more sedate, just putting out the fires, stopping inappropriate things being flushed down my loo, fending off the drunken wombats Hank had invited to an impromptu party in the backyard. I tell you, wombats are mean drunks, just sayin'. But apart from dealing with the occasional bouts of arsenry, larceny and archery, as I said, my New Years was pretty uneventful. Hope yours involved a lot less of batting out an on fire wombat who has been hit by a flamming arrow in a drunken match of 'Pin the Flamming Arrow on the Wombat'. I should have really been a wake up to the dangerous nature of that game… I think the clue was in the name, now that I think about it. **

**And now, onto the story. As always, I'm going to have to stop anyone who is a first timer to an Aunty Lou Arrow story and place a velvet rope against going any further. I mean, you can read on obviously… after all, it's only a velvet rope, those things have no integrity whatsoever… however, you maybe a little confused as to where we are, how we got there, and why there are so many references to crotches in my story… or maybe not… maybe you're all about the crotches… no judgement here… you go with your good self. **

**But honestly, it will help you a great deal to go back and start at the beginning of this series, starting with 'Secret Women's Business', followed by 'Love Potion No. 9', then a little foray into 'A Halloween Anthology' and finally, you'll arrive at this fic, fully pumped and primed (just like my Elsa doll post date night with Hank.. and you'll also find out who Hank is… that may or may not be a good thing) for this new story. I know that sounds like a big commitment when you just idly clicked on this link randomly, thinking you were just going to have a quick skim of this story and work out if you want to keep on reading, and I'm not going to lie… it is. Heck, my A/N's alone are a serious commitment… which you've probably worked out by now. But, to get the most out of this Olicity loving fic, you really should seriously consider going back to the beginning… or not, it's your life, I'm not the boss of you. **

**And after that lengthy discourse and ambling preamble, we move onto the actual story. Working on balancing out the angst heavy nature of the show right now… and can I just say, they had Oliver fall off a cliff, a literal cliffhanger, just like mine was… the Arrow writers and me… we're sooo sympatico. ;) Anyways, they're piling on the angst, so, I'm going to be kind to you and pile on the Olicity goodness… you know, in the beginning, to lull you all into a false sense of security before BAMMMOOOO! ripping your hearts out and playing a bloody game of table tennis with it… just kidding… it'll probably be volley ball. Anyways, you should all know my MO by now, but I promise you, there will be a lot of Olicity sweetness mixed into the whole thing, so don't worry about that. :D **

**Okay, that's it, I guess. Thanks for coming back for a fourth helping of my version of Olicity which is really based on how funny and light the relationship was in the first 20 minutes of the S3 premier and the Flarrow crossover episodes. Hopefully we'll get back there by the end of the season… after a lot more suffering, obviously. In the meantime, there is this fic. I do hope you'll enjoy and tell your friends about it… and if you hate it, tell your enemies – everyone wins! Except for your enemies, who you obviously don't want to win. **

**Long first chapter, so you'd better get cracking. A big thank you to Pheebs who betaed the first two chapters of this story for me. You're a doll! :D Does everyone remember where we left off from Halloween? Felicity had promised Oliver a date she was intent on organizing. We pick it up there. I'll catch you at the end. :D **

**UNDER MY SKIN**

"Love conquers all," Aphrodite promised. "Look at Helen and Paris. Did they let anything come between them?"  
>"Didn't they start the Trojan War and get thousands of people killed?"<br>"Pfft. That's not the point. Follow your heart."  
>― Rick Riordan, (<em>The Titan's Curse<em>)

**CHAPTER ONE**

The woman stumbled, falling to her knees and tearing up the flesh as the gravel from the walking path cut into them. Her whole body was in agony, as though she'd been torn up from the inside out. "No," she sobbed, "please, no!" She could hear the crunch of booted feet approaching her, but she couldn't see them, her eyesight completely gone. Panic set in as she scrambled to get away. "Leave me alone!" she screamed. "Leave me alone! Help! Help!" For once the popular walking track seemed to be deserted, much to the woman's despair. All of her friends had warned her about walking so late, but she'd done it for years, and never had any problems. Until tonight. She felt a hand grab the back of her hoodie, hauling her backwards. Then her hair was being gripped, and she was being dragged. The sharp branches cut into her flesh as the man dragged her into the shrubbery, even as she fought violently to fend him off. Then he was kneeling on her chest, and she felt something sharp touch one of her now blind eyes. She didn't understand, didn't know what was happening. Grabbing at the man's wrist, she made one last desperate plea for mercy. "Please, don't," she implored him, tears running down her face. "Please, I don't know why you're doing this. You don't have to do this."

A man's voice rasped out a reply. "You should be proud. You're a part of a bigger whole. A whole that is going to change the world."

The woman had no idea what he was talking about. "You're crazy!" she said in desperation. "You're not going to get away with this. Someone is going to stop you, and make you pay!"

"The future thanks you for your sacrifice," rasped the man and then she felt the knife slip under her eyeball, causing an explosion of pain and that's when her screams began in earnest…

**#**

Oliver looked up at the manor as Felicity drove them up to directly in front of his home. She cut the engine, but Oliver made no attempt to get out of the car. He turned his attention back on the woman beside him, a big grin on his face. "Tonight was fun."

"Yes, it was," said Felicity in satisfaction. "And do you know why?"

"Because I got to spend some alone time with my best girl?" said Oliver happily. Felicity's choice of date night had been like her – unexpected and incredibly fun.

"Yeah, that was okay," said Felicity dismissively, and then an impish smile played around her lips, "but you want to know what the best part was?" She didn't let him answer. "It was me destroying you at mini-golf, and claiming my rightful title as Empress of All She Surveys," Felicity gloated.

Oliver couldn't seem to dislodge the giant grin from his face. "Was that what we were playing for? I didn't realize the stakes were so high."

"It's miniature golf," said Felicity with a completely serious expression on her face. "The stakes are _always_ high."

Oliver laughed. "I had no idea you were such a devotee of the sport… miniature sport… actually, is it even a sport?"

"Of course it is," said Felicity roundly. "And I kicked your butt at it, big time." She looked very pleased with herself about that little fact.

Oliver had no idea where Felicity had been taking him on their date, and when she'd picked him up, and driven him to a miniature golf course, it had been totally random but more fun than he'd remembered having in a long time. Felicity had been adorably competitive about the whole thing and she'd made him laugh the entire night. "I just wasn't expecting you to turn mini-golf into a death sport," he said in amusement.

"Miniature golf is a sport of skill, technique and ultimately a mind game," said Felicity, still looking very proud of herself. "You have to get into the other person's head and fight your battles there. It's incredibly strategic."

"We're still talking about a game where you have to hit a ball into a little windmill, right?" asked Oliver indulgently.

"Miniature golf is the pinnacle of all sporting endeavors," insisted Felicity.

His lips twitched. "Actually, I've heard that. Aren't they going to swap out playing football at the next Super Bowl, and play miniature golf instead?"

Felicity snorted. "Football wishes it was as awesome as miniature golf."

Oliver laughed at her defiant defense of the game. "How did you get so good at it, anyways?" Felicity really had torn up the course with her ability. Oliver had been very impressed.

"When I was fourteen my Mom was working at this restaurant. Across the road where we were staying was a miniature golf course owned by the same people. The owner's son used to manage it, and I'd help out after school." Felicity gave him a sheepish look. "He was very cute, and I kind of wanted to impress him, so, I practiced playing the course… a lot."

Oliver arched an eyebrow. "How old was this guy?"

Felicity shrugged. "I don't know, twenty-four, twenty-five."

"Please tell me nothing happened between you two," said Oliver with a grimace. "What is it with you and older men?"

"Of course nothing happened," said Felicity quickly. "Except that I got wicked good at miniature golf. And Ben wasn't that much older than me."

"Ten years," pointed out Oliver.

"There is ten years between you and me."

Oliver realized she was right. "Oh, ah, well, that's different."

It was Felicity's turn to look amused now. "How?"

"Because you're not fourteen anymore, obviously."

"You're right, I'm not," said Felicity thoughtfully. "Maybe I should look Ben up, see what he's up to?"

"Oh," said Oliver with fake joviality, "jokes about hooking up with other men, they'll _never_ not be funny to me."

Felicity laughed at his obvious sarcasm. "Just teasing."

"You know I'm fragile in that area when it comes to you," said Oliver unevenly, knowing she was only playing with him, but still feeling the need to point that out.

"With no good reason," she countered.

"Reason and my feelings for you don't really play nicely together," conceded Oliver. "You drive me crazy." He gave a small frown. "Again, not XR-320 crazy, regular, lovesick crazy." Oliver sighed. "Is there going to come some point where I don't have to qualify my crazy to you?"

"You can stop qualifying it now."

Oliver's face lit up. "Really? Does that mean our trial dating thing is over and we can start dating properly?" He gave her a hopeful look. "You know, properly, properly." They both knew what he meant by that. Felicity was wearing a floral blouse and white shorts for their date. Consequently Oliver had been unable to take his eyes off her shapely legs, beautifully pert and rounded backside all night. Felicity had caught him unabashedly staring at both those things so many times during their date that Oliver had given up even pretending to apologize. She really was driving him insane… a delicious, stomach-tightening insanity of anticipation that had Oliver's head spinning in her presence. He wanted to do more than just look, he wanted to touch Felicity, all over and not stop until they both found satisfaction. Oliver just wanted everything from Felicity. Pacing himself like this was hard, harder than he'd actually thought it was going to be, even though there was a lot to enjoy in the anticipation. What Oliver truly wanted, however, was to know that Felicity was as all in with their relationship as he was. When they made love for the first time, it'd be a true confirmation of that, and Oliver could hardly wait.

"Honestly, Oliver Queen, I give you an inch, and you think you're a ruler," said Felicity in exasperation. "I'm willing to concede I don't think you're still dealing with the aftereffects of that gas. I still think us looking before we leap is the smart way to go here. There is a lot at stake."

Oliver could see Felicity was still hesitant when it came to him, and honestly, he couldn't exactly blame her. "I know," he said warmly, "but just so you know, no matter how long we wait to take this to the next level, my feelings for you are not going to go away, and either is my desire to be with you." Oliver smiled at her. "I'm not pushing, Felicity, just stating the facts." Despite her firm stance on the matter, Oliver noticed she looked relieved by his reassurance. The crazy woman still actually thought he might decide this wasn't worth it. Felicity couldn't be more wrong, and he was going to prove it to her.

"Here's another fact," said Felicity, obviously looking to diffuse the heightened emotion between them, "I'm a doyen of mini-golf, and you just plain suck," she finished off triumphantly.

"I've heard of bad losers," said Oliver indulgently, "but apparently there's such a thing as a bad winner too."

Felicity waved away his teasing censure. "Just admit you suck at the sport, and I'm your superior in every way," she insisted sweetly. "I don't think that's too much to ask."

"I've never played before," he defended himself.

Felicity looked at him in amazement. "You've never played before? What, ever?"

Oliver pursed his lips, trying to think. "Well, there was this one time in my Senior year when the Gillespie twins and I snuck onto a mini-golf course and—" He stopped abruptly and moved a little in his seat. "Um… you know, I don't really remember how that story finishes," lied Oliver quickly, because he'd just remembered very clearly how that particular night had ended. He really didn't want Felicity knowing the details.

Felicity just smiled at his discomfort. "It's okay, Oliver. I had my suspicions that you weren't a virgin."

Oliver gave her a chagrined look. "Sorry, I have a past I'm not that proud of."

"We've all done dumb things when we were eighteen," said Felicity.

Oliver thought of all the stupid careless and reckless things he'd done with he was eighteen and grimaced. "Somehow I think my mistakes at eighteen would kind of win out over yours, Felicity."

"Don't be so sure," said Felicity with a sigh.

Oliver looked at her curiously. "What did you do that was so bad?" Felicity looked at him and bit her bottom lip. Oliver was immediately mesmerized by the simple action. He put a hand and cupped her cheek, running his thumb back and forth over the tortured skin. The impulse to kiss away the small act of torture was too strong to resist. Oliver leant forward, and was then reminded he was still wearing his seat belt. The safety device prevented him getting any closer to Felicity. _Stupid life-saving equipment._ He gave a grunt of annoyance at the obstruction.

Felicity smiled at his frustration. "We'll talk about it another day. For now, the most important thing is that you acknowledge I completely destroyed you at golf—"

"_Miniature_ golf," he clarified in amusement at her continuing pride in her accomplishment. "You know, as in pretend."

"And from now on, I feel like you should address with the obvious respect I deserve," said Felicity, feigning the utmost seriousness, and ignoring his attempts to belittle her beloved sport. "How about Empress Smoak… or Goddess Smoak… hmm… that might be too much, change that to Demi-Goddess Smoak, I don't want to tempt fate. Or how about just Queen Felicity, that has a nice ring to—"

Oliver couldn't stand it anymore, he couldn't not be kissing this woman. In one swift movement he undid his seatbelt and was closing the small distance them and crushing her lips under his. Time stood still as his senses exploded with the taste and smell of the Empress Demi-Goddess Queen Felicity Smoak. The few chaste kisses he'd managed to steal throughout the day thus far had only whetted his appetite for more, and it was a long moment before Oliver found the strength to break the heated kisses, even for a few seconds. He withdrew the smallest amount, so that his lips still brushed hers when he spoke, but he could look into her eyes at the same time. "I prefer Felicity Queen," he said raggedly.

Felicity blinked up at him blearily, obviously just as affected as he was by their shared kisses. "You-you're saying it wrong," she whispered shakily. "It's Queen Felicity."

"I know what I'm saying," he assured her hoarsely before capturing her mouth with his again. Somewhere in the back of his head that little voice of reason was trying to caution him about going too fast with Felicity but Oliver couldn't bring himself to listen. In that moment there was no doubt in his mind that he very much wanted Felicity to be a Queen… his Queen. The thought sent a charge of pleasure throughout his entire body and to prevent himself from babbling out some confession that was only going to frighten Felicity with its intensity, Oliver chose to deepen the kiss instead. He reached for her seatbelt, releasing her from the confines of her seat and then Oliver put an arm around her waist, drawing her over to his side of the car.

Felicity's car was small, not designed for such maneuvers, but Oliver defiantly defied the physics of their limited space. His tongue was rubbing against hers, tasting her sweetness deeply, but it still wasn't enough. Oliver wanted flesh on flesh. With the top half of Felicity resting on him in their cramped quarters, Oliver managed to keep her anchored there with one hand on her backside while his other hand found its way up under her blouse. The memories of Felicity guiding his hand to her breast last night had the blood humming in his veins, and his hand seeking out the exact same goal. Oliver felt Felicity's breath hitch into their kiss as his hand found one of her breasts. The sensation of her softness filling his hand tore a guttural groan from deep inside of him. Only the thin material of her bra separated them from feeling each other properly, and Oliver was quick to deal with that. He reluctantly let go of her breast, and moved around to Felicity's back to find the clasp of her bra. Oliver fumbled in the limited space, unable to find the room to get his hand at the right angle to find the clasp, his elbow bumping against the dashboard.

He felt Felicity smile into their kiss. "It's at the front," she said breathlessly, breaking their kisses for a split second.

"Damn it," growled Oliver, realizing she was right, and now trying to get his hand back around to her front again. A little bubble of laughter reverberated against his chest as Felicity found the situation amusing.

"And here I was thinking I was trial dating a smooth operator," she teased him, eyes flashing playful amusement up at him.

"If we were really dating instead of trial, then you'd have gotten the smooth operator," grunted Oliver, finding it hard to get his hand back around to her front because they'd changed positions slightly and he didn't fit quite like he used to a few minutes previously. "Trial dates only get trial operators."

Felicity laughed. "Guess I should have read the fine print on that one, hmm?"

Oliver gave up trying to get his hand to Felicity's front in their current position. It wasn't going to happen, short of him busting her front windscreen. Something he'd actually given brief, but serious consideration to in his desperation. "Your car hates me," he complained unevenly in his frustration.

"Sebastian doesn't hate you, he's just still a little miffed you bled all over him. He's very house proud… car proud."

"Your car is a man?" asked Oliver unevenly. It was a little hard to think with Felicity pressed up against him like she was, but that fact caught his attention.

"Obviously."

"Okay."

"I like to name things."

"I've noticed." Oliver tried to get more comfortable underneath Felicity and was rewarded by banging his knee on the steering wheel. "Ow." He scrunched up his face. "You see, Sebastian hates me. I think he's jealous of me."

Felicity grinned. "Now who's imbuing inanimate objects with emotions?"

Oliver tried not to smile. "You're rubbing off on me."

Felicity moved on top of him a little. "Am I now?" she asked innocently.

Oliver was forced to bite back another groan at the feeling of her body rubbing itself against his, making her point a literal one.

"Is that a problem for you?" Felicity asked sweetly.

"A big problem," said Oliver shakily, feeling his body react helplessly to hers. Felicity moved again and fresh sensations rocketed around his body, ending up in one very particular place. Oliver swallowed hard. "And it's only getting bigger," he said shakily, feeling himself harden even more. "A _lot_ bigger."

Felicity giggled. "You sound like Bunny again."

"Stop talking about other men," he groaned, only half-joking.

"One is gay and the other is a car," laughed Felicity. "It's hardly the same as you and the Gillespie twins who I'm sure—"

Oliver didn't let her finish. He didn't want to be talking about anyone other than then the two of them. The rest of the world didn't exist when he was kissing her, and that was exactly what Oliver wanted. His hand went to the back of Felicity's head, fingers weaving their way into her soft hair and helping him to deepen the kiss. The sound of their combined, uneven breathing filled the inside of the car as they both lost themselves in each other. It was Felicity who pulled back first.

"I-I should go," she panted, face flushed and looking thoroughly kissed.

"I should let you go," said Oliver hoarsely. They stared at each other for a long second and then Oliver was kissing her again, with Felicity returning his kisses just as enthusiastically. He couldn't get enough of Felicity, and this would be a perfect moment if it wasn't for the sharp pain between his shoulder blades. Something was digging into his back, but Oliver refused to break their kisses to find out what. Instead, he reached blindly behind him with his free hand, intent on removing the painful item from between his shoulder blades. Still lost in Felicity's kisses, Oliver fumbled behind himself, finally finding the nub which was pressing into his flesh. He pushed on it before realizing too late it was actually the latch to open the door. Oliver was pressed so hard against the door that when it gave way, he immediately went with it. He was forced to relinquish his hold on Felicity for fear of dragging her out of the car with him as he fell backwards onto the concrete of his front driveway. Even so, Felicity still ended up half hanging out of the car, caught up in his body as Oliver slipped to the ground. He looked up at her, dazed from the abrupt relocation, Felicity lying on her stomach over the front seat, looking down at him.

She burst out laughing, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle her obvious amusement. "Are-are you okay?" she managed to choke out around her merriment.

Oliver screwed up his face, annoyed that they weren't kissing anymore. "You saw that, didn't you? Your car intentionally spat me out." That only made Felicity laugh harder while Oliver managed to untangle his feet from where they were stuck in the foot well and then he was kneeling by the open car door, face level with Felicity as she tried to contain her mirth. "You need a bigger car," he informed her as sternly as he could, but her laughter was infectious.

"Maybe I just need a smaller boyfriend," countered Felicity mischievously.

Oliver grinned. "That's the first time you've called me your boyfriend," he noted in satisfaction.

"Trial boyfriend," said Felicity, hastily backtracking but still smiling.

"Too late. The word is out in the universe, you can't take it back… or qualify it." Oliver leant against the car seat as he knelt there on the concrete and gave Felicity a pointed look. "You know what isn't small though?"

Felicity laughed again. "That sounds like yet another Bunny segue way," she teased him.

"I was going to say the house behind me," said Oliver, accepting her teasing good-naturedly. "It has forty-three rooms, you know, and twenty-two of them are bedrooms." Oliver realized how that must sound so he hastily tried to correct himself. "And three kitchens. We could go inside, and I could make you a sandwich or something."

Felicity bit her bottom lip. "I thought we agreed we weren't going to… have any… sandwiches… until after the twenty dates or three weeks are up?"

"Well, maybe we can just make the sandwiches and nibble on them a bit?" wheedled Oliver. "Or maybe just lick them—" He stopped abruptly. "Okay, the sandwich analogy thing is getting weird. Was that weird?"

Felicity laugh. "A bit."

He gave her a hopeful look. "But the invitation stands." Tonight had been perfect. Oliver wasn't ready for it to be over yet.

Felicity looked suddenly regretful. "I said I'd call my mom tonight. She was pretty down last night. I wanted to make sure she was doing better tonight."

"Oh," said Oliver, trying to hide his disappointment, "okay." He suddenly gave her intent look. "Just out of curiosity, did you happen to make that arrangement with your mom as a safeguard against us… ah… you know… in case you were tempted to… I mean, if you thought you might not be able to say no to any offer of… umm… sandwiches I might have made tonight?"

Felicity blushed ever so slightly. "Maybe."

Oliver couldn't help the pleased smile which immediately came to his lips.

Felicity pouted and playfully slapped his shoulder. "You don't have to look so smug about it."

"I'm just really happy to know I'm not the only one who has trouble saying no to sandwiches," said Oliver impishly. "I was beginning to worry."

"Well, I just thought it was smart because, well, sandwiches can be very—" Felicity trailed off and was suddenly staring at his lips. "Um… very… ah—"

Oliver's head bobbed up and down. "Yes, they can," he agreed throatily, finding an equal fascination with her lips. "_Very_, very."

Oliver moved to kiss her again but Felicity quickly put her hand up and covered his mouth with her hand. "Okay, we should probably stop there."

"Dh mfh hfto?"

Felicity gave him a confused look. "What?"

Oliver lifted her hand from his mouth. "Do we have to?" he repeated himself.

"It's the smart thing to do," said Felicity, but her tone didn't hold a lot of conviction.

"You know, instead of just Skyping with your mom, if you're really worried about her, we could take the jet and fly out and see her over the weekend."

Felicity's eyes went wide. "Oh no, we're not doing that."

He cocked his head at her reaction. "Why not?"

"Um, because it's not a good idea," said Felicity, her expression suddenly pained.

"Seeing your mom isn't a good idea?" he pushed her. "Or do you mean seeing your mom with me is the problem?"

"Ah…"

"Felicity," he said in mild exasperation, "I want to meet your mother."

"And you will… eventually," said Felicity unsteadily.

"When is eventually?"

"I don't know."

"Take a rough stab at it."

"I don't know… in a few—"

"Days?"

"Dear God, no," she said anxiously.

"Weeks then?"

"Ah… well—"

"So what, we're talking months?" asked Oliver in horror.

"Months isn't that long," protested Felicity.

"How many months?"

"Two…umm… enty."

"Twoenty isn't a number," said Oliver firmly. "Were you trying to ease into the number twenty?"

Felicity wrinkled her nose and didn't reply.

"Twenty months is nearly two years, Felicity," said Oliver in disbelief.

"You're right," said Felicity in relief, "we should totally just round it out to the two year mark for neatness sakes."

That earned her an exasperated look. "I'm not waiting two years to meet your mother, Felicity. What's the big deal? You met my mother."

"We didn't exactly get along."

"She respected your strength and loyalty," he argued with her. "And your stubbornness."

"Yeah, well, with my mom and me… it's complicated," said Felicity unevenly.

"Gee, I wouldn't know anything about that," said Oliver, straight-faced. "My mother and I had a completely normal relationship."

"Oliver," groaned Felicity.

"Felicity, it won't be a big deal, I promise," said Oliver earnestly, trying to reassure her. "I'm great with moms." He gave a self-deprecating smile. "Fathers not so much, but mothers love me."

"I don't think you're ready to meet my mom," said Felicity unsteadily. "She's kind of a force of nature."

"I like nature, I'm a big fan of nature." When Felicity still hesitated Oliver kept talking. "Felicity, I want to meet the woman who raised you," he said sincerely. "The person who had a hand in shaping the amazing, brilliant, funny and endearing woman I'm currently looking at right now."

"You say that now, but it's like going out the back into the kitchen of your favorite restaurant to find a chef who doesn't wash his hands after going to the bathroom, and suffers from some kind of flaking skin issue."

"I'm pretty sure that won't be the case," said Oliver slowly.

"You don't know my mom," groaned Felicity.

"Kind of my point."

Felicity grimaced. "Can we table this discussion for another time?"

"Yes, but just so long as you know that we will definitely be revisiting this subject." Oliver paused. "And the offer of the jet still stands, with or without me."

Felicity smiled and cupped his face. "That's sweet."

"Of course, it'd be a more fun trip with me," said Oliver, not above shamelessly promoting himself. "But don't let that influence your decision."

Felicity half-smiled. "Okay, I won't."

"You can let it influence you a little bit," backtracked Oliver. "Or a lot… you know, whatever feels right."

Felicity leant over and kissed him gently on the lips. "That feels right," she said softly.

Oliver gave her a warm look, lips still tingling from the brief contact. "It does, doesn't it?"

"But I do have to go," said Felicity reluctantly. "My mom—"

"Needs you, I know," said Oliver understandingly. He kissed her again. "You go and tell her hello from me." Oliver was determined to show Felicity he was all about putting her needs above his own. He saw a little look of guilt flash over Felicity's face. "Your mom… she does know about me, right?"

"In theory," hedged Felicity.

Oliver's eyebrows lifted. "What does that mean?"

"It means she knows I work for you."

"And?"

"And that we're… umm… friends."

"You haven't told her we're trial dating?" asked Oliver in surprise.

"No, because then I'd sound crazy," said Felicity uncomfortably.

"The trial dating thing was your idea," protested Oliver.

"I know, but I was going to hold off on telling her anything until the trial was over." Felicity looked suddenly worried. "That's okay, isn't it?"

The truth was, Oliver would have felt a little happier to know Felicity had told her mother about their budding relationship. It would have cemented it more, and Oliver really liked the thought of that, but he understood Felicity's hesitation. It didn't make it any less frustrating, but he got it. "Felicity, I keep telling you, you're setting the pace on this thing. We'll go public with this when you feel ready to and not before. I want you to tell your mom about us when it feels right." He gave her a winsome smile. "I get a little… eager… when it comes to you, and I know that I can get a little pushy and controlling—" Oliver paused. "Just so you know, you can jump in anytime, and disagree with me."

"You are pushy when you want something." Felicity smiled. "But so am I, so that works out nicely."

"Okay, guess I can live with that."

"I'm just way less obnoxious about it," said Felicity teasingly.

Oliver smiled. "Isn't saying you're not obnoxious kind of obnoxious?"

"No, what's obnoxious is using any flimsy excuse to bring up the fact that I pulverized you tonight." Felicity grinned. "Which I'm going to do… again." Her grin widened. "I won, you lost. I'm _so_ much better than you."

Oliver was struggling to keep a straight face. "I think your modesty in this particular situation proves that."

"And you know what this situation is?" asked Felicity happily. "It's me handing you your ass at a sport of wit and cunning."

"Okay, apparently you're not going to be gracious about this—" began Oliver in amusement.

Felicity snorted. "Not even a little bit."

"So, my honor dictates that I ask for a rematch."

"Do you have any honor left after the way I decimated your manhood tonight?" asked Felicity sweetly.

Oliver was trying very hard not to laugh. "I've scraped together the shattered remnants and am demanding a rematch with it."

"Gee, I hate to see a grown man being utterly humiliated for a second time," said Felicity, feigning concern but then a giant grin broke out on her face. "Who am I kidding? I'd _love_ to see that again."

"You know what they say pride comes before," he said mockingly.

"Complete and utter annihilation of your opponent?" suggested Felicity brightly.

Oliver laughed. "We'll see." He loved how confident Felicity was being. It was adorable and truth be told, he didn't care if he won or lost, just that they'd be spending more time together. Oliver scratched his cheek. "Just out of interest, do you think you'll be wearing those same shorts at our rematch?"

Felicity frowned and looked a little confused. "I don't know, why?"

"Oh well," said Oliver with his best attempt at innocence, "they seem to be your lucky shorts. I definitely think you should wear them again." _Please, God, wear those shorts again._

Felicity made a dismissive sound. "I whupped your butt because I'm awesome at mini-golf and you're not. It doesn't matter what shorts I'm wearing. Heck, I don't need to wear shorts at all."

Oliver had a lot of trouble keeping a straight face at that thought. "A concept I am more than a hundred percent behind," he said sincerely. "Obviously I will have to buy out the session time while we're there though. I don't want you to cause any riots, but I have no problem with that." Oliver gave her his best pointed look. "_No_ problem with that," he assured her throatily.

Felicity's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You know, I'm beginning to think you're not taking our golf war seriously."

"Trust me," said Oliver a little unevenly, still picturing Felicity making all those golf shots sans pants, "it's pretty much all I can think about."

"Are you picturing me naked right now?" asked Felicity, eyeing him warily.

"No," said Oliver indignantly, "I'm a gentleman. You're wearing underwear… white underwear." He gave her a crooked smile. "It's very nice… very tasty… I mean tasteful… tasteful is what I meant to say."

Felicity's lips were twitching which completely ruined her attempts to admonish him. "Yes, you really are quite the gentleman, aren't you?" Before Oliver could respond, Felicity had a suggestion for him. "Let's make this interesting."

Oliver gave her a salacious smile. "Trust me, if you could see what I was thinking, it's already pretty interesting."

Felicity bit her cheek to try and stop her smile overtaking her entire face. "We should put a wager on this."

Oliver's eyebrows shot up. "Like money?"

"No, not money, something more interesting than that." She looked at him expectantly. "Name your stakes."

"If I win it counts as five dates," said Oliver without hesitation.

"Five?" squawked Felicity. "Please, that is never going to happen."

"What's the matter, Demi-Goddess, worried tonight was just a fluke, and you can't repeat your good luck?" he taunted her smugly.

"It wasn't good luck, it was Olympian level skill," she said roundly.

"Mini-golf isn't an Olympic sport."

"Yet."

"I feel pretty confident in calling a never on that one." He gave her an intent look. "What do you want if you happen to win?"

"You mean _when_ I win?" asked Felicity confidently. She screwed up her face and looked thoughtful. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it."

"You can get back to me on that," said Oliver easily.

"Aren't you worried about what I might ask for?"

"No."

"That kind of latitude could go to a girl's head," she warned him.

Oliver just smiled. "It's not going to be an issue because I'm going to win my five dates anyways."

Felicity patted his face. "It's so cute when you're this deluded. Really, it's beyond adorable."

"He who laughs last—"

"Is probably watching your golf technique?" offered up Felicity sweetly.

"Gloat all you want—"

"Thank you, I think I will," said Felicity smugly.

"But I'm going to be the one doing the decimating next time."

"Big talk from the guy currently on his knees," said Felicity impishly. "Guess I was right about that prediction after all."

"Well, I predict next time you're going to be the one on your knees in front of me by the end of the night," said Oliver self-assuredly and then paused, brow wrinkling as he realized how that must have sounded. "Okay, there really is no way to make that not sound sexual, is there?"

"It doesn't matter because it's never going to happen. You're going down, Oliver Queen. I suggest you stock up on knee pads accordingly."

Oliver just looked at her.

"You're still going to that place, aren't you?" asked Felicity in amusement.

"It's pretty hard not to," said Oliver ruefully.

Felicity shook her head at him. "It's that just kind of easy distraction that makes you cannon fodder for my golf prowess."

"I'll be focused by our rematch," he predicted confidently.

"It won't do you any good," she predicted with just as much confidence. Felicity leaned a little more out of the car and kissed him. "Goodnight, Oliver," she said huskily.

"Goodnight, Felicity," he said throatily. "Thank you for the date. I had a lot of fun."

"And nothing got set on fire," she laughed.

Oliver moved slightly, still feeling the decided discomfort in his crotch area. "Speak for yourself," he said wryly.

Felicity blushed and bit her bottom lip. "See you tomorrow."

Oliver reluctantly stood up and nodded. "Tomorrow." He closed the door to her car and then Felicity was putting her seatbelt on turning the ignition of the car before driving off. Oliver watched her leave, feeling that now familiar wrench of not having Felicity by his side. It sucked. He really needed to do something about them going home to separate houses at the end of the night. Even if they stayed within their 'no sandwiches' rule, and just could sleep in the same bed, that would go a long way in helping him deal with this bereft feeling of being separated from Felicity. Oliver made up his mind to try and float that particular idea by Felicity the next time they spoke. All this thinking about sandwiches had Oliver hungry for an actual sandwich. He turned around, and let himself back into the manor, making a beeline for the kitchen. Once there he made himself a large sandwich, sitting down at the table to enjoy it. Oliver looked at the sandwich in his hand, and couldn't help but remember his conversation with Felicity. God, but what he wouldn't have given for Felicity to have taken him up on his sandwich offer. Oliver's eyes glazed over a little as he imagined what they could be doing right now if Felicity's cooler head hadn't prevailed.

"Are you going to eat that sandwich or make out with it?"

Oliver turned his head at the laconically amused question to see Thea standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He gave her a lopsided smile. "Hey Speedy, early night?"

Thea strolled into the kitchen and took a seat on his left at the table. "Yeah, Roy said he'd close up for me, to make up for last night when he bailed." She rolled her eyes. "Doing what I don't know. I'm only the girlfriend, I don't get to know what's going on his life."

"I'm sure it wasn't anything interesting," said Oliver quickly.

"He said he was with you."

"Oh, right, yes, yes, he was," said Oliver quickly.

"Why does that sound like a lie?" asked Thea suspiciously.

"I swear to you, Thea," said Oliver sincerely, "Roy was with me last night."

"And how is that meant to make me feel better – that my boyfriend would rather hang out with my brother than me on Halloween?"

"It wasn't a case of rather… it was a case of had to."

"Why did Roy have to spend the night with you and not me?"

"Umm… there was stuff… you know, man stuff," said Oliver lamely.

"I'm taking the other half of your sandwich in payment for that beyond pathetic explanation," said Thea, reaching for the remainder of the sandwich on the plate between them.

"A fair deal," agreed Oliver.

Thea took a bite and then screwed up her face. "Ugh, you always have too many pickles on your sandwiches." She put down the sandwich and started to pull the majority of them out. "What did you and Felicity do tonight?" Thea briefly stopped her de-pickling endeavors to smile at him. "Saw your dismount from the car. It wasn't pretty."

"Her car hates me."

"Oh yeah, because that's a thing," said Thea dryly.

"We played miniature golf."

Thea gave him a curious look. "Is that a sex thing?"

Oliver frowned. "No, it's a miniature golf thing."

"It sounds like a sex thing."

"No, it's you using sticks to hit balls into holes…" Oliver paused. "Okay, saying it like that, it does sound like a sex thing, but it wasn't. It was miniature golf."

"Who won?" asked Thea with interest.

"Felicity… convincingly." Oliver smiled. "There was a dance at the end and everything." His smile widened as he remembered her energetic dance of victory, or as Felicity called it 'The Suck It' dance. Oliver hadn't been able to stop laughing.

"Seems like you enjoyed the dance," said Thea in amusement.

"More than I should have in a public place," conceded Oliver roguishly.

"My brother, out on a date playing mini-golf," marveled Thea. "Just when you think you've seen it all."

"What, I can go out and enjoy myself," protested Oliver.

"_I_ know that, I just wasn't aware that you did," said Thea wryly.

Oliver had to concede her point. "Cute."

Thea finished pulling out the last of the pickles. "Did you use the entire bottle in that sandwich? How many pickles does one sandwich need?"

Oliver happily scooped them up to add to his half. "I love pickles," he said unapologetically. "They were one of the things I missed the most on the island. Pickles are my happy place. Nothing else really tastes like pickles other than pickles. And toilet paper."

"Toilet paper tastes likes pickles?" Thea teased him. "Do tell, big brother."

"No, smarty pants." Oliver half-smiled. "I missed toilet paper on the island too."

Thea pulled a face. "I wouldn't have survived five minutes in that place."

Oliver held her gaze. "You're stronger than you think, Thea. I didn't think I'd survive either, but I did. Queens are survivors, it's in our blood." He pulled a face. "But that being said, I never want to see you in that kind of danger… not ever."

"Unclench, Ollie," she said indulgently. "The biggest danger I'm facing is being overwhelmed by your pickle breath." Thea smiled. "Seeing as you're ODing on those passion killers, am I correct in guessing you're not expecting Felicity back tonight?"

Oliver gave short shake of his head. "No, she's going to spend some time with her mom online."

"How's her mom doing?"

"Better, but it's still early days."

"You should fly Felicity out to see her," encouraged Thea.

"We've talked about it," said Oliver, absently picking up another pickle slice and munching on it.

"But?"

"But Felicity wants to take this slowly, ease into the whole letting people know thing, and I promised her I'd make sure that happened. I don't want her to feel under any kind of pressure from me, particularly while things are still a little…" Oliver searched for the right word. "…fragile between us. I can't screw this up, Thea."

"Oh."

Oliver frowned. "What's the matter?"

Thea grimaced. "Now, don't freak out…"

Oliver immediately tensed. "Thea, what's wrong?"

"Are you promise you're not going to freak out?" Thea looked worried. "I don't want you to freak out."

"What's making me freak out is you telling me not to freak out," said Oliver unevenly. "What is it, Thea? What's wrong? Just tell me."

Thea reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. "Remember, freakage… not an option." She fiddled with the screen of her phone, and then handed it to Oliver.

He took it, confused as to what this could possibly be about. As soon as Oliver looked at the screen, he blanched. "Oh crap," he muttered in distress, "crap, crap, crap."

"Do you want me to get you more pickles?" offered Thea sympathetically and then nodded her head at Oliver's continuing expression of distress. "I'll get you more pickles. That'll make you feel better."

Oliver stared at the screen and let out a vexed grunt. _Damn it, why now? Everything had been going so perfectly._ "Bring the whole jar," he instructed her in resignation. "This is an entire jar of pickles situation." Oliver sat back in his seat, grimacing.

And then some…

**A/N****: And so the angst begins! Miniature angst, to go with my miniature theme of the first chapter – golf, Felicity's shorts. ;) I had to include them after seeing Stephen's reaction to Emily's amazing legs at the Flarrow cross over party. It was pretty funny. He looked at her legs in those black shorts a lot and I don't blame him. I looked at them a lot too and I'm completely straight! Emily's legs very impressive and I had to do a little homage to them in the opening chapter because I knew Oliver would be even more enamored of them than very happily married Stephen. ;) **

**Now then, any guesses as to what the first hurdle I'm throwing Olicity's way might be? If you've been an attentive duckling, you might be able to figure it out from one of my previous stories. As always, points for those who pay attention for the cookies I pepper throughout my story… hmm, pepper cookies… oddly compelling, I should totally try and make some of them. But in the meantime, I'd better crack on with getting the next chapter done. I'll sober Hank up and see what he comes up with… other than hacking up fur balls and those tiny umbrellas from cocktail drinks. Hope to see you in the next chapter and am curious to see if anyone can guess what has Oliver in a bit of a flap. ;) **

**PS. Just come from jbuffyangel's tumblr account and guess what? She published my ask. How awesome is that? Sorry, for the excitement, I've never been published on Tumblr before and quite frankly, have no idea what I'm doing. I think my post is called 'Parallels and Random Thoughts' or something like that. You'll know it when you start reading – I've been told I've got a pretty distinctive style to my talking… I think it's a polite way of saying 'run at the mouth'… and obviously I don't expect anyone to go over and read it. Anyways, I'm stoked… just can't work out how to reply to Jen. I seriously have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to Tumblr. Sigh. I suck. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N****: Hi guys! So great to hear from so many of you in the first chapter. That was awesome. :D **

**I see I threw some of you with my 10 year age difference between Olicity reference in the first chapter and rightly so. I know there isn't that much on the show between Olicity, but for reasons known only to my muse, I prefer the age difference between Stephen and Emily. I have no idea why. Sorry if I confused anyone… which leads me to a confession about this fan fic… it's not a fan fic. A fan fic, a proper one IMO, honors the canon material and follows the writer's lead, with your own twist. I think because I started writing this series before really watching the show, I never had a chance to make this an authentic Arrow fic. Instead, I see it as an 'inspired by' almost AU kind of situation. My Oliver is not the show's Oliver. Mine is lighter, and has a more settled feeling to him. I've fast forwarded through all of his personal angst and left that up to the highly paid actual writers of the show. Lol I'm not looking for huge amounts of character development with these stories – some, obviously, but I'm not looking to go crazy. **

**Okay, that was my confession off my chest. I think we all feel better for it… just me, oh, okay. **

**So, in more news from me, I now have a Tumblr account. Check that, a working Tumblr account, check that, a semi-working Tumblr account. I haven't really figured out how everything works. Me responding to people is pretty hit and miss and I don't think I'm finding all the places people comment. Frankly, Tumblr is one confusing platform. None of it really makes sense to me. But I had to do something with my account because I joined to leave a comment on jbuffyangel's wonderful blog and she reblogged not one, but two of my asinine ramblings. Crazy woman! As a result, people started to follow me. I panicked. Now I had to make it look like I had at least some idea what I was doing. So, that's what I've been doing the last couple of days. Trying to work out Tumblr… with mixed results. Please forgive me if you've written something on my Tumblr account and I haven't responded. I probably haven't found it or don't know how. I'll try and get better, I promise. **

**Anyways, apparently some people were looking for me on that kind of social media. I think my name is louiseblue1, but don't quote me. I don't do Twitter because that limitation of 140 characters thing. Please, it takes me more than that to clear my throat! I'm so not one to limit my words. Lazy of me, I know and I should probably try and work on that but… meh. A project for another day. So, long story short… or more accurately, short story long, I don't do Twitter. Frankly, social media kinda frightens me a bit… a lot. You meet some absolutely lovely people – case in point, all my wonderful ducklings reading this, but you also get exposed to a lot of negativity which, you know, who needs that, right? **

**Okay, the actual story. Let me think – I have frazzled Tumblr brain, I may need a minute. Um… it's quite long (that's what she said… well, actually, usually that's what he said). There were some good guesses about what the issue Oliver is not not freaking out about, you'll find out if you were right when you read on. Umm… D'Artagnan, my stubbornly resident rat dragged a bag of brownie mix from the kitchen bench into the living room last night. It's not story related, but it's just pissing me off. I mean, what's he planning on doing, making brownies now in the middle of my living room? There's a line and he crossed it a while back. I thought I'd got rid of him before but no, he's still there, haunting me, driving my Pearl crazy. Bloody rat. **

**And on that note of sour frustration, why don't you read the story, eh? **

**CHAPTER TWO**

Felicity guided her car into her usual spot in the Queen Consolidated underground parking. She turned off the engine, but didn't immediately get out of the car. Looking over to the vacant passenger seat, she couldn't help but remember the last time she'd pulled up on Queen property. Felicity also couldn't help the enormous smile that came to her lips as she thought of her date with Oliver last night. It had been so much fun, she could hardly stand it. So much of their time was spent in life and death situations or grappling for corporate survival, to just have a night where they could be Felicity and Oliver and nothing else was amazing. She resisted the urge to lean over, and breathe in deeply against the car seat cover, on the off chance that she'd still be able to smell him. "Don't be that girl that sniffs a guy's chair," she admonished herself firmly but even so, the temptation remained. When Oliver kissed her, the warmth his body generated just enveloped her like a blanket, and it was like he was touching her all over. Felicity reached out a hand and ran it along the seat. She wanted that so badly. She wanted Oliver more than her next breath. It still amazed her she'd found the strength to go home last night. Oliver's kisses made her forget all reason and there was only him. It was just as well she'd made the plans to call her mother last night, otherwise Felicity wasn't sure she'd have had the strength to stop things between them. When you'd wanted someone for so long like she'd wanted Oliver, that fantasy becoming a reality could be a little overwhelming. A lot overwhelming, in fact. Felicity still couldn't help but worry that all this was going to disappear as quickly as it had appeared. Oliver's abrupt about face when it came to wanting a relationship with her still had Felicity's head spinning. "Which is why we're taking it slow," she muttered to herself, more as a reminder than anything else. "Look before you leap, Felicity." Her phone rang, and Felicity automatically answered it.

"Hello, poppet, how are we today?"

She smiled. "Hello, Bunny, I'm good. How are you?"

"Very eager to hear about your big date last night with monkey," said Bunny happily. "Tell me everything, leave out no detail, no matter how small or intimate."

Felicity laughed. "We had a nice time."

"Nice, is that the best you can come up with?"

"It was amazing," said Felicity unevenly. "It was a perfect night."

"Is he a good kisser? My monkey looks like a good kisser," said Bunny knowingly.

"Oliver is an amazing kisser," sighed Felicity, unconsciously putting her fingers to her lips as she remembered Oliver's thorough plundering of them.

"And did our monkey enjoy the ensemble I helped pick out for you?"

Felicity had been unable to make up her mind what to wear on their date last night, and Bunny had rung at that moment. She'd ended up sending him pictures of herself in various outfits, and Bunny had signed off on the clothes she'd eventually worn last night. "He didn't say," said Felicity innocently.

"I find that unlikely," said Bunny with great certainty. "Your legs looked amazing in those shorts. If my monkey wasn't eating his heart out over you in those, then the boy doesn't have a pulse."

Felicity remembered all the times she'd caught Oliver shameless staring at her legs during their date and bit her bottom lip. "I don't think he hated the shorts," she said coyly.

"Translation?"

"I'm pretty sure he took a picture of me in them when he thought I wasn't looking," said Felicity in amusement.

"And we can let our imaginations run wild with what he's going to do with that little piece of eye candy," said Bunny cheekily.

Felicity blushed despite herself. "Oliver doesn't… umm… sign his name, remember?"

"Darling, that was before you and he started engaging in your little dance of denial."

Felicity bit her bottom lip. "Do you think I'm crazy, not going all the way with Oliver straight away? I mean, I don't know if there are many women in the world who'd say no to an opportunity to be with Oliver Queen."

"And that's why you're so special to him," said Bunny confidently. "One of the many reasons."

"I-I just don't want to rush this," said Felicity unsteadily. "Bunny, it's so amazing between us right now. I can hardly believe any of this is happening. It's like…"

"Like what, poppet?"

Felicity grimaced. "I don't know, like it's too good to be true. Like something is going to come along any moment and ruin everything." She sighed and rubbed her face. "I'm sorry. I'm not usually a glass empty kinda girl, but I'm so happy with Oliver right now, it's actually frightening me a little bit."

"Oh, my poor little poppet," cooed Bunny sympathetically. "Darling, sometimes good things happen to good people. You're just going to have to accept that this is one of those times."

Felicity smiled. "You think?"

"Oh darling, very much so. Sometimes the journey of life gives you the lemonade already made, and you should just guzzle it like there is no tomorrow. That's certainly what I'm doing right now."

Felicity laughed. "You're on the run for your life, hiding in a basement, while some maniac, big game hunter, whack-a-doodle is trying to kill you for being involved in his brother's death. Exactly how is your life sunshine and roses right now?"

"Darling, you're looking at it all wrong. I'm currently nestled in a cozy little enclave, and being zealously protected by a bevy of lusciously rippling men. And, if that wasn't enough, I also have my delicious little cherry on top in the form of one absolutely gorgeous girl to have fun with. Explain to me the down side in any of that?"

Felicity shook her head and smiled. "I guess that's one way to look at it."

"It's the only way to look at it," insisted Bunny, "because that's the way it is. Be happy, darling, you deserve it. You both do."

"It just all still feels like a dream, you know?" said Felicity unevenly. "Like I'll wake up any moment and realize this is all in my head." She fiddled with the steering wheel in front of her. "Or Oliver will."

"We must have a bad connection because for a moment there, it sounded like you were doubting my monkey's devotion to you." He paused. "And I know that couldn't be the case."

"I know Oliver cares for me," said Felicity quickly. "I'm not doubting that but—"

"But?"

"But what if, when we do finally make love, it's not what he expected?" Felicity gave voice to her deepest fears. "What if Oliver thinks he's in love with me, but the reality of having all of me turns out isn't what he's built it up in his head to be with all of this waiting?"

"Poppet, this isn't about sex for him, you have to know that."

"I do," said Felicity slowly, "but—"

"There is no but about it," said Bunny firmly. "I've been watching monkey around you and honestly, that man would gnaw through concrete just to hold your hand. Tell me you can see that."

Felicity drew in an unsteady breath. "I know, and it's all so surreal."

"What's so surreal is that he's managed to keep his hands off you for the last two years," said Bunny emphatically. "I'm so happy to see him rectifying that otherwise I'd seriously be contemplating the notion that he has some kind of brain damage. Poppet, all is well, be happy, just relax and enjoy it."

Felicity did just that, leaning back against her seat. "Thanks, Bunny. I don't normally borrow trouble like this, but I've also never been this happy. I haven't really had anyone to talk to about this stuff. I didn't mean to unload on you."

"Unload as often as you want, darling," said Bunny without hesitation. "In fact, I insist upon it otherwise I'm going to be mortally offended."

Felicity laughed. "Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we?" she glanced at her watch. "It's almost eight o'clock. You have that meeting with the Italians at nine, don't you?" Felicity reached around to the backseat of her car and pulled out her tablet. "I'll get you sorted for that."

"You are good to me, my darling," said Bunny happily.

"Well, I know for a fact multibillion dollar companies don't run themselves," said Felicity as she tapped away at her tablet. "And I also know for a fact that the first way Ross Ross is going to track you is through your phone traffic." She finished what she was doing with a flourish. "Something he isn't going to be able to know that I've just put a modifier on your phone. They can trace your calls all they want but it'll just bounce them all over the globe, and they'll never get a fix on you."

"Oh, but you are a clever clogs," said Bunny appreciatively. "I do need to handle this business deal with the Italians personally. They're trying to play hard ball, and it's time I reminded them that no one's balls are harder than mine. My personal goal is to make at least one of them cry today."

"Bunny," laughed Felicity.

"Darling, there are many people in this world who will try and take liberties. You should always make sure that you're the liberter and not the libertee."

"I don't think I'm cutthroat enough for corporate business. It's not my thing."

"Fortunately it is mine. I do enjoy the thrust and parry of making deals," said Bunny in satisfaction. "Makes one feel alive."

"Well, you can feel alive secure in the knowledge that no one is going to be able to trace your calls so you can stay that way."

"Superb. You know, dealing with these Italians has got me to thinking. Last night I noticed a worrying lack of couture in your wardrobe. We really must do something about that right away. When all this Ross business is over, we'll pop on my personal jet, and take a little jaunt over to Rome and Paris, do a little shopping."

"I can't afford couture."

"Darling, I invited you on a girl's day out," said Bunny, sounding horrified. "It'd be horribly gauche of me to expect you to spend even one cent."

"I'm not letting you spend that kind of money on me—"

"Poppet, it's only money," protested Bunny. "You're dating a billionaire now. There will be functions to attend that require a certain amount of couture."

"Oliver doesn't care about that sort of thing."

"Darling, no man is perfect. Besides, that's what you have me for."

"It's too much," said Felicity firmly. "I can't justify it."

"Since when does couture need to be justified?" asked a confused sounding Bunny. "It exists to be fabulous… much like myself."

Felicity smiled. "Well, when it comes to your fabulousness, I'm definitely all on board. How about we just go to New York, and do some window shopping instead?"

"What, we can't buy anything?" asked Bunny in horror.

"Maybe a handbag or shoes… if they're on sale."

"Oh, you'll be the death of me with an attitude like that," said a dismayed Bunny. "Never mind, we'll work on it and find some compromise, and by compromise I mean I'll eventually get my way, and whisk you off for a shopping frenzy in a faraway land."

Felicity grinned at Bunny's stubbornness. "I don't see Oliver exactly being thrilled with that. We don't have much free time between Queen Consolidated and the Arrow stuff."

"Well, obviously monkey will be coming with us. We will be needing someone to carry all of our bags so we can keep our hands free for more shopping. We can't let that finely toned physique go to waste."

"I can see him being even less thrilled by that scenario," said Felicity in amusement.

"Oh, pish posh, men love feeling useful. He'll have a ball." In the background Felicity heard a man's voice. "That's my brown bear calling me for breakfast," said Bunny breezily. "He's desperate to spend some quality time alone with me over some baguettes."

Felicity arched an eyebrow. "Did Diggle actually say that?"

"It was heavily implied by his tone," said Bunny with great assurance.

"Oh well then, must be true," said Felicity impishly. "I'll see you both after work today, okay? Call me if you have any technical issues."

"Will do my love, and say hi to my little monkey for me… preferably with some inappropriate touching, so he definitely knows it from me."

Felicity giggled. "Will do."

"Bye, darling, and thank you."

Felicity hung up from her phone call, still smiling. She didn't care what Oliver said, Bunny was just the thing their team needed, even if she wasn't exactly sure what that thing was. All Felicity knew was that it made her smile, and how could that be a bad thing? She slipped out of her car, heading towards the elevator. Felicity stepped into the elevator, engrossed in her tablet, checking on the daily news. She didn't look up when someone joined her on the next floor, which was the ground floor.

"Hey."

Felicity immediately glanced up and smiled as the elevator doors slid shut behind the newcomer. "Hey." She cocked her head. "What are you doing here, Roy?"

Roy rolled his eyes. "Apparently it's not enough that my job description involves babysitting, cross dressing—"

"Still waiting on details on that one."

"Never going to happen… target practice dummy—"

"Oliver is sorry he shot you."

"He's done it more than once," grumbled Roy.

"Yes, but the second time he missed on purpose," said Felicity brightly. "That a good thing, right?"

Roy gave her an unimpressed look.

"Okay, maybe not."

"And now I'm an errand boy," he said in annoyance. "Diggle asked me to drop off some papers Oliver left in the car yesterday."

"You know one of you has to stay with Bunny," said Felicity as they arrived at their floor. They stepped out together and walked along the corridor.

"How are you going on tracking down that Ross guy?"

"Working on it. He's surprisingly stealthy." Two women from the PR department walked past them going the other way. They both stared at Felicity with knowing smirks on their faces, and when they'd walked past Felicity looked over her shoulder to see them whispering together before bursting out laughing. She frowned. "Did you see that? I think they were laughing at us."

Roy shrugged. "People are jerks. What are you gonna do?"

Felicity shook her head, and put her attention back onto her tablet. "You're not kidding. Have you seen this?" She tilted the screen towards Roy so he could see. "Some predator attacked a woman last night in Gotham City, and cut out her eyes. How sick is that? This is the third person who's had this happen to them. The paper is calling him the Optometrist. Ugh, I suppose they think that's cute. It's so not." They were at the office now, and Felicity looked up from her tablet screen to see Oliver standing in the doorway of his office. She waved her iPad at him. "Have you seen this?"

Oliver's face fell. "You've seen it then?"

"Yes, I've seen it, and I feel like I'm going to throw up," said Felicity.

Oliver blanched. "You do?"

"Of course I do, how else am I meant to feel?" asked Felicity, a little surprised.

"It's not that big of a deal," Oliver hesitated, and gave her a worried look. "Is it?"

Felicity blinked. "How can you say that? The person doing this has to be tracked down and made to pay. Preferably with a very long prison sentence."

Oliver grimaced. "I don't think that is going to be possible. I mean, as intrusive as it was, it isn't exactly illegal."

Felicity's eyes narrowed. "Not illegal? Wait, what are you talking about?"

Oliver straightened up a little. "What are you talking about?"

"The Optometrist dude," offered up Roy. "The guy who cut out a girl's eyes last night in Gotham, and then went to town on rearranging her insides."

"Oh," said Oliver, looking a little taken aback, "okay."

"What were you talking about?" asked Felicity, suddenly concerned by the way Oliver was behaving.

"It's not that big of a deal," said Oliver, with forced casualness.

"What isn't?"

"I mean, when you put things in perspective, it's practically nothing."

"Oliver, you're starting to freak me out. What is practically nothing?" asked Felicity unevenly.

His shoulders sagged. "Go to the entertainment section," said Oliver reluctantly. "I thought that was what you were reading when you came in."

Felicity quickly scrolled through the news feed until she was at the required section. Her eyes went wide when the first thing she saw was an enormous picture. "Oh my God," she squeaked.

Roy was looking over her shoulder. "Hey, that's you and Oliver," he said in surprise and then leaned closer. "Why are you both wet?"

"How… what… when… why…?" Felicity could only mumble out her one word questions, the blood roaring in her ears.

Oliver wasn't taking his eyes off her, his expression full of contrition. "One of the firemen at our aquarium date must have taken a picture of us without me noticing—"

"Possibly because you've got your tongue so down Felicity's throat you could qualify as an ENT specialist."

"Shut up, Roy," growled Oliver and then his anxious gaze was back on Felicity. "Are you okay?"

Felicity couldn't speak, she was still in shock. It was indeed a picture of her and Oliver in the middle of a very passionate kiss, sitting on the floor of the aquarium, and the sprinkler system still raining down on them. The title of the article read 'No Fire Without Smoake'. "They-they spelt my name wrong," she said weakly.

"Yes, I know," said Oliver, not taking his eyes off her.

"There is a picture of us kissing in the newspaper," said Felicity faintly. She didn't need to read the article to know what it said.

"I know," said Oliver unhappily. He took a cautious step towards her. "Are-are you mad?"

Felicity managed to tear her eyes off the screen to look at him. She blinked. "There's a picture of us kissing in a national newspaper," she repeated, still struggling to come to terms with what this meant. "I-I look like a drowned rat."

"You look kinda hot, actually," said Roy candidly.

This earned him a particularly dark look from Oliver, but Roy didn't seem to notice as he peered even closer at the picture. "Although, judging by the photo, that water must have been pretty cold."

Felicity dragged her shocked gaze from Oliver's concerned one to look at the picture again, and she immediately saw what Roy was referencing. Thanks to the water, the material of her dress was clinging to her like a second skin, and the angle the photo had been taken at showed off the front of that dress very plainly. "Oh my God!" said Felicity in horror.

"I know, that water must have been freezing," said Roy easily. "Glacial even."

Oliver snatched the tablet out of Felicity's hands so that Roy couldn't look anymore, glaring at the younger man. "Stop that," he snarled.

Roy held up his hands in a conciliatory fashion. "Hey, I'm just pointing out what every male with a heartbeat and eyesight would have already noticed."

Felicity could feel herself alternating between going bright red and icy cold. "My nipples are in a national newspaper," she said in distress. Felicity was rooted to the spot with sheer embarrassment.

"They're not that obvious," said Oliver unevenly, obviously desperate to make this better for her.

"They totally are," said Roy without hesitation.

Oliver turned on him, eyes flashing death. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now," he ground out.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger, man," said Roy hotly. "I'm just an innocent bystander in all of this. You're the one who let some creep fireman walk out of there with pictures of you and Felicity."

Oliver looked like he was seconds away from punching Roy in the face, his knuckles whitening on her tablet.

"It's fine," said Felicity numbly, unable to unsort the jumble of hysterical thoughts which were currently screaming through her brain. "No problem."

"Really?" asked Oliver, looking at her warily.

Felicity fixed what she hoped was a smile on her face, but seeing as she couldn't feel any part of her body right then, she couldn't be sure. "Absolutely. I'm fine with this. Like you said, it's no big deal." Her phone rang, and Felicity pulled it out, seeing the caller ID. "It's my mom," she said, still with the fake smile on her face. "That's great," said Felicity with feigned brightly. "Probably just calling me for no particular reason, just to say hi." Instead of answering the phone call though, Felicity carefully placed it on her desk, and then backed away from it.

"Aren't you going to answer it?" asked Oliver hesitantly.

"Oh, absolutely," said Felicity instantly, but made no move to do so. They all stood there, staring at the phone until it stopped ringing, and went to voicemail.

"You, ah, you missed the call," pointed out Roy, pretty unnecessarily.

"Did I?" asked Felicity vaguely. She felt like she was falling. Her head was spinning, and breathing was becoming a bit of an issue. The phone started ringing again. Felicity took another step back. "I-ah-I'm just going to do some photocopying." She turned on her heel, and immediately started to march towards the little room at the end of the hall.

"Felicity?" Oliver was calling her name from behind, the concern obvious in his tone. "You don't have anything to photocopy."

"Oh, I'll find something," she said shakily, quickening her step, and just needing desperately not to be there in that moment. Felicity made it to the photocopying room, and practically launched herself into the small space, hastily locking the door behind her.

A split second later the door handle was being turned. "Felicity, open the door."

"No… thank you," said Felicity primly.

Oliver tried the handle, but the lock did its job. "Felicity, we need to talk about this," he said urgently.

"No, we don't," said Felicity faintly as she dropped to her hands and knees, and looked for the most secure place she could find. She shuffled along the floor on all fours, and crawled under the desk on the far wall. "I'm totally fine, no problem here." Except that her budding and still fragile relationship with Oliver was now outed to the world, everyone she worked with now believed they had photographic proof that she'd earned her position as PA to the CEO on her back, her mother was going to want to extract every detail from her one excruciating question after the other, and, oh yeah, her nipples were on display for all the world to see. "It's all good, I'm fine," she called out to Oliver even as she pulled her knees up to her chest, and willed a giant black hole to open up directly in front of her, and suck her off the face of the earth.

"Dude, I don't think she's fine," said Roy, sounding vaguely worried on the other side of the door.

"Thank you for the update, Captain Obvious," snapped Oliver. "What are you even doing here other than ogling my girlfriend's nipples anyway?"

"I wasn't ogling," said Roy sharply. "I can't help it if her nipples draw the eye."

Felicity put her hands over her head and started to rock back and forth. "This isn't happening," she chanted to herself. "This isn't happening. You're going to wake up any minute now."

"Stop talking about Felicity's nipples," said Oliver furiously.

"You're the one who keeps bringing them up," shouted back Roy defensively. "Well, you or the cold water."

"Okay, that's it…"

Felicity could hear scuffling on the other side of the door, but she stayed where she was, still rocking back and forth.

"Hey, come on, man, I was only teasing, can't you take a joke?"

"This isn't funny!" roared Oliver.

"It's a little bit funn-oww!" More scuffling.

"Get out of here, Roy."

"Okay, okay, calm down. Geez, try and have a bit of a sense of humor about this stuff already. Let go of me… thank you… here are your stupid papers, and good luck with… this, whatever this is."

"Why are you still here?" growled Oliver.

"I'm going, I'm going." Roy called out to her. "Feel better, Felicity, and don't worry, I was just kidding about your nipples, they're not that noticeable, really." There was a pause, and Roy lowered his voice, but Felicity could still hear him clearly. "Do you think she bought that about her nipples, because, dude, there are going to be like a couple of thousand teenage boys signing their name with that picture, if you know what— OW! Stop hitting me in the head!"

"I don't want Felicity's nipples coming out of your mouth ever again!" raged Oliver. "Do you hear me?"

Felicity cringed on the other side of the door, worried the entire building had heard that with the way Oliver had shouted it at Roy.

There was an awkward silence that followed Oliver's heated and poorly constructed demand.

"So," said Roy slowly, "I'm guessing that sounded better in your head than what it came out like, right?"

"Roy, I swear to God, you are on thin ice here, very thin ice," snarled Oliver. "Get out of here, and I don't want you near Felicity for the rest of the day."

Roy snorted. "Okay, fine, whatever, but that plan isn't going to work for every other guy on the planet. Not unless you're going to start keeping her in a box, or something." He hesitated, obviously seeing something concerning in Oliver's face. "You're not planning on keeping Felicity in a box, are you?"

"The only person who is going to be in a box is you if you don't get out of here now," said Oliver, voice full of dire menace.

"Alright, I'm outta here, gladly. I don't need this crap. I could be in the lair right now, being sexually interfered with by a handsie British guy. I've got options."

Felicity heard Roy walking away, and then Oliver was back talking to her, his voice noticeably softer for her benefit.

"Felicity, sweetheart, I really think we need to talk." Oliver tried the door handle again. "Why don't you unlock the door, and let me in, hmm?" he cajoled her.

"I've lost the key," said Felicity, staring ahead at a spot on the wall.

"It's not that kind of lock."

"Can't talk now," said Felicity unevenly, still trying to sort through all the rampant emotions currently assaulting her. "Too busy photocopying, talk later."

"I can't hear the photocopier," pointed out Oliver logically.

Felicity stuck a hand out from underneath the desk she was currently hiding under, and blindly hit at the controls of the photocopier. After some blind stabbing, the machine fired up, and started shooting out page after page of blank pieces of paper. The rhythmic shuffling of paper was kind of soothing to Felicity's jangled nerves. She retreated back under the desk, and just let the photocopier run, trying to work out how all this could have happened… and what she was going to do about it… seeing as that black hole thing didn't seem to be happening any time soon.

**A/N****: I know, I'm lurching over into slapstick. I can't help it. Blame my British comedy upbringing. I like making serious people do silly things. It's a vice. Not a vice you grip things in, you understand. Or something you put flowers in – that's a vase. It's the not nice vice, something I should work on. I'm rambling. I think I need to eat… or stop eating, one of those two things. Hope you're not put off to come back for the next chapter…**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N****: Well, I have achieved stuff today. Avert thy gaze least the virtuous glow from my greatness blinds you all. **

**Had a doctor's appointment, sat and waited in Medicare to get a refund, went to Spec Savers and got two new pairs of glasses for free thanks to my health fund (you owed me, guys, my premiums are ridiculous!) and then met the rat catcher who is currently running around the house setting booby traps for my rats. He thinks there is more than just D'Artangan. I suspected Athos, Porthos and Aramis were in on this racket as well. I suggested digging little pits with bamboo spikes at the bottom to trap them, which he didn't seem to think that was such a great idea. He was even less enamored about my sewing up the rat's butt suggestion, despite me showing him the hard science behind it. He never said why. **

**Anyways, we've gone with the traditional route of poisons, whiz bang, melt your rodent like face off poisons. I may have added that last part myself. Also, I'm guessing a rat's face isn't rodent like… more just rodent period… you know, because they're an actual rodent. The guy wouldn't commit to the melting face effect of his baits though. Where is the pomp and circumstance in animal control these days? Color and movement is what keeps the masses entertained and a melting face has both of those things going for it! I don't normally wish death and destruction on living things. I'd feel quite bad about it if I hadn't found two bananas and an avocado stone under my sofa in the last couple of days. He'd only taken a couple of bites out of the bananas. That's just wasteful. There are rats in Africa that would love an entire banana! And bananas are a terrible price at the moment here. Okay, technically I got them free from a friend, but my outrage remains! **

**So yeah, that was my day. What did you guys get up to? **

**Never mind, back to me now. **

**The other thing is that my internet connection is playing up so who knows when I'll get to post this chapter. Obviously whenever you get around to reading this, the connection will be back, but yes, for now, as I tap away industriously at the keys, I have no idea when that might be. The good news about that is I'm having a computer guy out tomorrow morning (my tomorrow morning, I have no idea when that will be for you guys) to investigate why my computer is just so damn sluggish and takes over 20 minutes to start every day. I suspect it's from all the Bilby porn I download (non-Australians may need to google what a bilby looks like). That stuff takes forever, mainly because the bilby sex act takes forever. **

**This innocent looking Australian marsupial (the Australian part is redundant, we're the only country in the world which has marsupials, not to brag), is actually a complete sex fiend. The male will have sex with a female for up to 24 hours, sometimes dying from exhaustion in the process. The female just nods off during most of it… as you would… rather sensible of her if you ask me. This longwinded act of procreation could be one of the reasons these guys are facing extinction. I'm just sayin', it's only sex, you don't have to turn it into War and Peace. I mean, I'm all about romance but the female doesn't even get dinner out of the whole thing. I guess she does get to walk away from the whole thing (no doubt gingerly after all that)… unlike the male, who may or may not be dead. Shagged himself to death. How much of legend would his mates all think he was? **

**That reminds me of a story I once read in the paper. There once was this guinea pig called Sooty who lived in Little Friend's Farm in South Wales. He was kept in a hutch of his own away from 24 other female guinea pigs on the farm. One day Sooty went missing. There was much dismay until a head count was done in the female's hutch and one too many was found. There was Sooty, passed out in the corner. He slept for two days straight apparently. And then, a few weeks later, 43 Sooty juniors were birthed altogether. Yes, Sooty had systematically shagged his way through each and every one of the lovely ladies in the adjacent hutch. That guinea pig would be able to walk into any pub in the world and never have to buy a single beer off the back of such a feat. There was a picture of him in the paper. The expression on his face… he looks so wistful, like he realized his life had just peaked. Still, he'll always go down in guinea pig folklore as a superhero. I don't think DC will ever make him one officially of course, but we all know he deserves it. **

**And with that, we segue way nicely back into this story. See what I did there? I know, clever, right? You know, if it had been planned… which it wasn't… so it's more on the assy side than anything else. **

**Okay, so, this chapter. More hilarity ensues. Yes, my bent for torturing Olicity is still in full force. I'm leaning heavily over into the ridiculous but personally, I blame the show. Much like Felicity who tries to balance out Oliver, I tend to automatically balance out the show. Seeing as they have been torturing Olicity all season (which only guarantees a greater pay off in my mind, so it's all good), I have to swing the other way and keep things light and funny between them. Of course, the stuff I'm currently writing now is a bit torturous, but then I go back to writing some Briggle stuff involving a dentist… but wait, I've said too much… anyways, sufficed to say the fun times will flow… well, not for Roy… I'm about to traumatize him in a terrible way with the current stuff I'm writing (seriously, you will NEVER guess what happens to him, and I mean never)… much to Diggle's amusement. Oh Roy, why do I do the things I do to you… oh, that's right, because it's fun. I knew there would be a good reason. **

**Okay, internet still not working otherwise I'd be posting this now. But I'm not… because the internet isn't working. **

**So, whenever I am able to post this, I do hope you'll enjoy… and if you don't, go eat five bags of M&M's in quick succession and read it again… that will probably help. Words to live by. **

**CHAPTER THREE**

Oliver paced up and down the hallway, throwing continuous, worried looks at the locked door of the photocopier room. He looked down at his watch for probably the fiftieth time since this had all started, jaw hardening. He couldn't take this anymore. Oliver reached for his phone, quickly dialing a familiar number.

"Hello?"

"She's locked herself in the photocopier room, and I don't know what to do," said Oliver rapidly. "Tell me what to do."

Diggle's calm tone didn't alter. "I'm probably going to need more information before I answer that question. Who's locked herself in the photocopying room?"

"Felicity," said Oliver in agitation as he continued to pace up and down the hallway.

"Why does your photocopy room have a lock on it?"

Oliver made an exasperated noise. "Not really the issue I'm looking to address here, John."

"Okay, why has Felicity locked herself in the photocopy room?"

Oliver made a face, and looked to the ceiling. "Go and check out today's online newspaper… entertainment section," instructed Oliver reluctantly.

"Hold on." There was a minute's pause as Diggle did just that. "Oh, I see. That's not… great."

"It's a disaster, Diggle," said Oliver unhappily. "Felicity is really upset."

"And locked in a photocopying room."

Oliver glanced at the door yet again. "Yes." He continued his pacing. "And she's stopped talking." Oliver swallowed hard. "Felicity has stopped talking, Digg. That can't be a good thing, right?"

"She's probably just processing, needs a minute to collect her thoughts."

"It's been over twenty minutes already," said Oliver unevenly. "How many more do you think she'll need?" He was going crazy, not knowing what Felicity was thinking. That was always one of the great joys of Felicity, you always knew what she was thinking, whether you wanted to or not. She talked, a lot. Which, for Oliver, who had learnt to censure so much of his words, it was like a life line for him. He hadn't quite realized how much until Felicity had stopped talking. "I don't know what to do, John. Tell me what to do."

"Whatever you do, don't go with your first instinct."

"What do you think my first instinct is?"

"Kicking down the door."

"That wasn't my first thought," said Oliver hotly. _It absolutely had been_. "I'm not some kind of crazy man." _He absolutely was when it came to Felicity_.

"Aha," said Diggle, his tone telling Oliver he knew he was lying. "Just don't, okay. That is not going to help the situation."

"Don't tell me what isn't going to help," said Oliver in agitation. "Tell me what is."

"Okay, first things first… stop pacing."

"I'm not pacing," said Oliver, still pacing.

"I can hear it in your voice, you're pacing."

Oliver abruptly stopped walking, now down the other end of the corridor to the photocopying room. His shoulders sagged as he looked out the floor to ceiling glass wall at the city below. "Fine," he huffed, "I've stopped pacing. What now?" Oliver's entire body felt like a coiled spring, ready to go off. He wasn't great at inaction like this. He needed to be doing something to fix this.

"Alright, so, let's examine the facts here. This photo thing… not ideal."

"No, it's not," ground out Oliver. He was still angry at himself for letting it happen. "This is all my fault."

"It's not your fault," said Diggle firmly. "It's whoever took this photo, and then decided to make it public."

"There were people there, Digg," said Oliver in aggravation. "I knew Felicity wanted to take this thing between us slowly and keep things private, but I just kept kissing her, with all those firemen around us. I couldn't help myself."

"I can see why. Felicity looks very… fetching in that picture. I think most men would have had the same issue."

Oliver knew exactly what Diggle's polite use of the word fetching meant. Felicity looked like a wet dream in that picture, figuratively and literally. It was an incredibly sexy picture of her, and Oliver knew any man who looked at it was going to be thinking what he'd been thinking while it was actually happening. He groaned loudly, and pressed his forehead against the glass pane of the window, hating the thought of that. Some primal part of him just rebelled at the thought of other men looking at Felicity that way. He'd never had a particular problem with jealousy with other women, even Laurel, but when it came to Felicity, Oliver couldn't help but be intensely territorial. The thought of other men seeing Felicity like that, looking as sexy as hell, and wanting her, it was too much for him. Oliver's free hand curled into a fist at just the thought of other men lusting after her. It made him want to hit something… hard. He rested his fist against the window, pressing his knuckles against the glass, and willing himself to calm down. Felicity didn't need his anger. That he could reserve for the first guy who looked at her sideways… and the second, and pretty much all of them after that. "I promised Felicity I'd let her take this as slowly as she needed to," said Oliver in anguish. "That she was safe with me, and now this has happened, and all of that has been blown to hell." His jaw hardened. "Tell me what to do."

"There isn't much you can do, Oliver."

"I don't want to hear that," he ground out.

"Basically, Felicity just has to come to a place of acceptance that being in your life in a romantic ways mean that strangers will want to know about her. It's not right, but it's how it is."

"And what if she can't do that?" fretted Oliver. Their relationship still felt so delicate to Oliver. On one hand it was stronger than it had ever been, but on the other hand, moving into romantic territory had Oliver extremely nervous. It wasn't that he was second-guessing what he wanted. That wasn't the issue, at least not for him. What was the issue was that he knew he wasn't exactly a great catch what with his past, his present and potentially, his future. It didn't add up to fun times for a woman brave enough to try and be a part of all that insanity. Felicity would be perfectly within her rights to just walk away from them right now. Oliver knew he wouldn't blame her. He suspected he'd lose his mind, but he wouldn't blame her. Oliver had come too far in letting his emotional walls down around Felicity to even contemplate rebuilding them. "What if Felicity decides us being together ends up asking too much of her?"

"Felicity has an almost endless capacity to give. I don't think that's going to be a problem."

"You don't know that," said Oliver fiercely. "She's really upset." He glanced back over his shoulder at the door at the other end of the hallway. "I think. I mean, she's locked inside a photocopying room. Happy people don't do that, right?"

"Okay, here's what you're going to do," said Diggle calmly. "First, you're going to unclench at least fifty percent of your body."

Oliver scowled. "What?"

"Unclench, Oliver. You look scary when you go all rigid—"

"Not to me," sang out Bunny's voice in the background.

"Not now, Bunny," said Diggle firmly, "Oliver's in the middle of a Felicity crisis."

"Poppet will calm down," said Bunny blithely, "particularly when she realizes how incredibly hot she looks in that picture. I tell you, I almost turned just looking at that thing."

"I don't want other men thinking Felicity is hot!" Oliver practically shouted down the phone line. She was his personal discovery, and Oliver was damned if he was going to be sharing that with anyone else. Some small voice of reason in the back of his head was trying to tell him that was incredibly sexist and overbearing of him, but Oliver just told that little voice to shut the hell up. Right now his emotions were in charge, and they didn't have any time for political correctness.

"That is not the sound of unclenching to me," said Diggle pragmatically.

Oliver sucked in an exasperated breath, and did his best to try and relax. "Okay," he grumbled, "I'm unclenched, what now?"

"Felicity has just been a little caught off-guard by all this publicity, she is going to adjust to it," said Diggle reasonably. "You grew up in the spotlight, she didn't. Felicity isn't one to take center stage, but she is more than capable of holding her own once there. Deep down she knows that, and will come to that conclusion in her own time."

"But what can I do?" pushed Oliver.

"Be patient."

"Oh."

"I know, not exactly in your wheelhouse when it comes to Felicity, but just try. Don't put any more pressure on her, okay?"

"I need to do something, Diggle," said Oliver unhappily.

"Being patient is something, do that."

Oliver grimaced. "Have you got any other pieces of advice?" _Ones he had an actual shot at achieving maybe? _

"Don't go insane when other men look at Felicity." Diggle paused. "Because after this picture… that's going to happen… a lot."

"We're 0 for 2 here for what is realistically within my skill set, Digg," said Oliver in aggravation.

"I know, but think of this as an exercise in growth. You'll be a better man because of it."

"I'm going to be a man with a gastric ulcer because of it," he countered snippily.

"Just don't do anything stupid."

Oliver opened his mouth to protest that wasn't something he would do, but then closed it again because when it came to Felicity, he knew all bets were off. "I'll try," he grumbled, "but I can't promise anything."

"Is there anything else? Bunny is just buttering my baguette."

"Never tell me what that means," muttered Oliver darkly. "And yes, that's it."

"Stop worrying. Felicity is taking a moment. Let her take a moment. She loves you, you love her, this is just a little bump in the road. All couples have them. It's not a big deal until either one of you turns it into a big deal." Diggle paused. "Don't be the one who turns this into a big deal, Oliver."

"Alright, yes, okay, got it. I'm staying calm, and not making this situation any worse than it already is."

"Good," said Diggle approvingly.

"Thanks."

"Call me if you do something dumb."

Oliver scowled. "I just said that wasn't going to happen."

"I know, I'm just making contingencies here. This is Felicity we're talking about. Your thought processes and impulse control kind of grinds to a halt around her."

"It's fine," said Oliver sharply. "I've got this."

"Okay, good. I won't expect to hear from you then… but just in case, you know my number."

"Goodbye, Diggle," said Oliver flatly and hung up. He pocketed his phone, and turned around. Leaning back against the glass wall behind him, Oliver stared at the photocopy room door, and drew in a steadying breath. "Okay," he muttered to himself, "stay calm and be patient. You can do both of those things, Queen." Oliver straightened up, and determinedly walked down the corridor to the door. He gave a quiet little tap on the door. "Hey you," he said softly, "just checking in." There was no response, but the sound of photocopying stopped. Oliver took that as a good sign. He bent his head, and kept talking in a low voice through the door to Felicity. "Look, I know this is sudden, and not exactly what we planned, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing. People were bound to find out about us sooner or later, and maybe it's a good thing that it's sooner. I love you. I'm serious about building a life with you. People are always going to have opinions about me, and by extension, the person I'm with, but isn't the only really important thing is what we think about each other?" Oliver paused, trying not to get anxious about the lack of response from the other side of the door. He made a face. "I know you're not happy about that photo, and believe me, I'm not thrilled either." Oliver tried to make her feel better. "Trust me, in a day or two, this will all have blown over, and no one is going to be talking about your breasts." He smiled, trying to cajole a little levity out of Felicity. "Except for me, and you know how I feel about them, and that's before we even start talking about that phenomenal backside of yours. Which, by the way, I'm seriously thinking about organizing a religion dedicated solely to your butt."

"Ahem."

Oliver heard the discrete clearing of a voice behind him. He swung around to see a rather uncomfortable looking blonde man standing there.

"Ah… Mr. Queen. I'm Marcus Kane, we had an appointment this morning at nine?"

"Oh right," said Oliver, a little taken aback. He hadn't heard the other man come up behind him, which wasn't like him. "I… ah… sorry, I was just… umm… my girlfriend and I were just discussing something." As Oliver said that, the door opened. Oliver made a strangled noise of horror, and took an immediate step back. "Mrs. Steinman," he said hastily. "Wh-what are you doing in there?"

The prim and proper woman in her mid-sixties set him with a steadfast, unamused look. "I was photocopying, Oliver," she said dourly. Mrs. Steinman had been a secretary for his father when Oliver used to come to the company as a small boy. She'd been somewhat intimidating back then, and still was to this day.

"Oh, right," said Oliver, fighting against showing how flustered he was. He looked past her to the room she'd just walked out of. "Are you… I mean, is there anyone else in there?"

"No, just me." She looked up at him, and blinked, a look of undisguised censure on her face. "I'm going now."

"Oh, okay, have a nice day, Mrs. Steinman," said Oliver unsteadily.

"Mmhm," she said, putting a surprising amount of disapproval into that one sound as she walked away.

Oliver looked back at the confused looking Marcus. "That isn't my girlfriend," said Oliver hastily.

"It's really none of my business, Mr. Queen," said Marcus sincerely.

"No," said Oliver, realizing that was true, "it's not." He took a moment to look inside the room again.

"I'm here."

He started a little at the sound of Felicity's voice. Oliver swung around to see Felicity standing by Marcus now, a cup of coffee in her hand.

"You were looking for me, right?" asked Felicity hesitantly.

"Yes," said Oliver in relief, "yes, I was."

"Well, I'm here." Felicity held up her mug of coffee. "I needed coffee."

"Right, good, coffee," said Oliver. That was more the Felicity he knew. She must have walked out of the photocopier room when he was talking to Diggle. At least she was out of the room. That had to be a good thing.

"This is Marcus Kane," said Felicity, inclining her head towards the younger man. "He's your nine o'clock."

No, he wasn't. Oliver needed to sort things out between himself and Felicity if he hoped to have any kind of clear thought in his head for the rest of the day. "Actually, Marcus, I'm very sorry to do this to you, but could we reschedule, please? Something just came up, and I really need to deal with it."

"Oh, sure, no problem, Mr. Queen," said Marcus hastily. "Whatever works for you."

"Thank you," said Oliver, moving to shake his hand. "I really appreciate this, and I promise, when we meet again, you'll have my full attention."

Marcus gave a grateful smile. "Okay, that'd be amazing. Thank you, sir."

Oliver watched the other man leave, and then he was turning his attention back to Felicity. "We need to talk," he said quietly.

Felicity sighed. "Okay."

"My office?"

She nodded.

Oliver extended his hand, indicating she should go first. He followed her down the corridor back to his office, and then closed the door after them.

Felicity placed her coffee on his desk, and then turned around to face him, making an unhappy face. "I'm sorry."

Oliver's eyes widened. "What are you sorry for? You didn't do anything wrong."

"I kind of freaked out, overreacted a bit there," said Felicity regretfully. "It wasn't exactly my finest hour."

"I just sexually harassed a sixty-four year old woman," said Oliver unsteadily, cringing internally as he thought about talking about butts and boobs to Mrs. Steinman. "I don't think either one of us has put our best foot forward so far today." He grimaced. "My immediate future is probably going to involve quite a few intense discussions with the HR department."

She made a face. "Sorry."

"Absolutely not your fault, Felicity," said Oliver firmly. "Please, no more apologizing. If anything, I'm the one who should be apologizing to you."

"No, I freaked out, and I shouldn't have," she said unevenly. "I didn't mean to be such a child about the whole thing."

"You were shocked, your privacy was invaded. You had a perfect right not to be happy about the situation."

"Yeah, but hiding under a desk, come on," said Felicity, looking annoyed at herself.

"You hid under a desk in there?" asked Oliver in distress.

"No," said Felicity hastily. She wrinkled her nose. "Maybe… a little bit."

"Felicity, I'm so sorry this happened to you," said Oliver, desperate to make amends. "It was all my fault. I should have stopped kissing you as soon as there were other people in the room. I knew you wanted to keep our relationship private, and I totally disrespected that." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I mean, that wasn't my intention at the time. I didn't make a conscious decision to keep kissing you. It was more like I couldn't stop."

"I could have stopped," offered up Felicity unhappily. "I'm just as much to blame." She shook her head at him. "You must think I'm an idiot."

"No, never," said Oliver fiercely. "My libido got us into this situation. This is all down to me. You're completely innocent in all of this."

"I could have handled it better," said Felicity sadly.

"You were blindsided. It's perfectly understandable reaction. Felicity, it's going to be okay." He wrinkled his nose at Felicity's continuing despondency. "I should go and get Mrs. Steinman back in here. I said some really reassuring things to her about us."

That had the impact Oliver was hoping for. Despite herself, Felicity's face relaxed into a smile and she laughed. "I can't believe you did that."

"I'm struggling a little to come to terms with it myself." Oliver screwed up his face. "I really wish I'd kept your anatomy out of that particular conversation."

Felicity put a hand to her mouth, trying to cover another laugh. "Sorry."

Oliver grinned. "Don't be. It was worth it to see you smile again."

Felicity dropped her hand away from her mouth, and bit her bottom lip. "Okay, so, we're totally going to look back on this one day and laugh, aren't we?"

"That's what I'm hanging onto." Oliver took a step closer, and put his hands on her arms. "Felicity," he said sincerely, "like I said to Mrs. Steinman, maybe this is a good thing for us."

Her lips twitched at his reference, and Oliver felt like he was making progress.

"At some point we were going to have to go public. Maybe it's better to do it now, like ripping a band aid off quickly, get it over and done with all at once." Oliver moved his hands to take hers. "You'll see, we'll be off the water cooler topic as quickly as we got on it. We'll be yesterday's news as soon as Kim Kardashian exposes another part of her body, and you know that is a ticking clock. We probably only have to wait another half hour."

"Oliver," said Felicity with a wobbly smile.

"I wish this public interest in my private life wasn't a thing, but it is," said Oliver quietly. "I can't make it go away, no matter how much I might want it to."

Felicity squeezed his hands. "I know, and I'm up for this, I really am. That was just a little wobble before. I've got my balance again. You're right, people will talk and then get over it." She gave a sad little smile. "I just kind of liked it being our little secret, you know?"

Oliver stepped closer to her. "I know," he said huskily, "I liked it too."

"But I just wish—"

"Wish what?" he asked intently.

Felicity shook her head. "Nothing."

Oliver gave her an intent look. "Please, Felicity, cards out on the table. I don't want there to be secrets between us."

"It's not a secret," said Felicity quickly. "It's just…" She sighed and wrinkled her nose. "I wish this didn't feel like history repeating itself."

Oliver looked at her blankly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean your dad and Isabel Rochev, and their little fling. Now, look at us."

"Felicity, we're nothing like those two," said Oliver emphatically. "My father was a married man, Isabel was a sociopath in the making, and they weren't in love." He frowned. "There is no comparison."

"I guess," said Felicity unevenly, "but I don't know, but when I was sitting under that desk, I couldn't help but think about them, and about us. It feels like a bad omen or something."

"It feels like you're borrowing trouble," said Oliver firmly. "Whatever my dad and Isabel had, it is nothing like what we have. It was a fling for my father, and a power play for Isabel. That's not us. It's the complete opposite of us."

"I know," said Felicity, but she still looked a little troubled. "I suppose I just wasn't really prepared to deal with the changes going on between us in such a public forum. I knew in theory it was going to happen, but—"

"But the reality is something else," said Oliver morosely. "I know."

"Look, it doesn't matter to me what other people think about me or why we're together," said Felicity determinedly. "I just forget sometimes you're Oliver Queen, and not just, you know, Oliver."

"I like that about you," said Oliver sincerely.

"But I'm okay now." Felicity gave him a reassuring smile. "I've had coffee, I've taken a moment, I'm cool, calm and collected."

The cell phone in Oliver's suit pocket rang.

Felicity cocked her head, hearing the dial tone. "Is that my phone?"

"I picked it up when you… ah, well, you know, were taking a minute." Oliver reached for it, handing it to her just as the ringing stopped.

Felicity looked at the screen. "Twelve missed calls from my mother," she said faintly. Felicity shoved the phone at Oliver, eyes slightly panicky. "Ring her back, and tell her I'm dead," she ordered him.

Oliver tilted his head, and pursed his lips. "I'm probably not going to do that."

"I can deal with everyone in the building thinking I'm a big old slut—"

"They are absolutely not thinking that," said Oliver in horror. And he'd destroy the first person who even intimated such a fallacy.

"But I'm not ready for my mom to know about us," said Felicity shakily.

"She already knows about us," pointed out Oliver logically. "It's a done deal."

"No, no, I'll just tell her that the photo and article was a practical joke," said Felicity hastily.

"Or, we could tell her the truth."

"Or that I have a doppelganger, and she's the one who is in the photo," said Felicity, clearly desperate to avoid the situation completely.

"Or, we could tell her the truth."

"How about this, now, bear with me, it's a little bit left field, but what if we tell her aliens—"

"Felicity," said Oliver firmly, but not unkindly, "we could just tell your mother the truth."

Felicity's shoulders sagged. "You don't understand. I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because, you know how you like to keep your life compartmentalized? You keep the Arrow and Oliver Queen separate—"

"I tried but it doesn't really work." His look was pointed. "And you're the proof of that. You straddle both of my worlds, Felicity. I can't compartmentalize you, and I don't want to, not anymore."

"I don't want you straddling my mother, Oliver," said Felicity fiercely. She screwed up her face. "Oh God, did those words just come out of my mouth?"

Oliver tried not to smile, knowing this was a confronting situation for her. "Felicity," he said patiently, "your mother is a part of your life. I'm a part of your life. At some point, we're going to have to intersect. That's just something that is going to happen."

"But-but it's my mother. When my mom gets involved in my life everything gets—" Felicity flailed her arms around wildly.

Oliver's eyebrows shot up. "I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I'm certain it won't be that bad."

"She pushes my buttons, Oliver," said Felicity, wide-eyed. "And it's not pretty."

"Of course parents push our buttons," said Oliver pragmatically. "It's because they installed most of them." He held out her phone to her. "Call your mom, Felicity. I promise you, everything is going to be fine."

"Like you promised me we could keep our relationship private until I was ready?" she asked in aggravation.

"Ouch."

Felicity grimaced. "You see. I get mean when backed into a corner."

"Don't think of it as being backed into a corner, think of it as a door opening," said Oliver brightly.

"Yeah, opening onto the Apocalypse," said Felicity darkly. "Nobody wants a front row seat for that."

"I'm reasonably sure your mother knowing about us doesn't equate to the Apocalypse," said Oliver in vague amusement. The phone rang in his hand. He glanced at the caller ID, and once again held it out to her. "I believe this is for you."

"Don't make me do this, Oliver," said a stressed Felicity.

"I'm not making you do anything. Your conscience on the other hand…"

Felicity snatched the phone off him. "Oh, low blow, using my morals against me. You're a bad man, Oliver Queen. You'll see, nothing good comes of my mother being involved in anything."

"Untrue," said Oliver huskily. "I'm looking at the best thing in my life, and she wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your mother."

Felicity sent him a half-hearted scowl. "Go peddle your sweet talk to Mrs. Steinman. I'm not interested."

Oliver smiled at that even as Felicity reluctantly answered her phone. She took a deep, long-suffering breath, and then answered the phone. "Hi, Mom."

**A/N****: Seeing as we've now met Donna on the show, I thought it was safe to write for her. I couldn't do that in the last fic, when Felicity went to be with her, but in this one, Donna is definitely going to pop up. She was pretty much exactly how I pictured Felicity's mum, so that's awesome and I love that dynamic between them. Throwing Oliver into that mix is just too much fun to pass up. **

**Now that we've seen Felicity deal with the fallout from that picture, we're going to see Oliver deal with it. Let's just say that on balance, Felicity probably does a better job. ;) I hope you'll join me and when we see each other again, I'll be wearing a necklace of rat corpses around my neck… although I'm not sure I've got shoes to go with that… although, interestingly enough, I do have a hat which would set it off quite nicely. Make of that what you will. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N****: Argghh! My muse is slowing down, she always does when I try and write for hours every day. She's a fickle think like that. It's just that I've got this week off and I won't have this much time off until who knows when to just sit and write. I want to get chapters and chapters done, and I did in the beginning, but now, I'm flagging. I'm telling you this as a bit of heads up if the distance between chapters start to widen soon. Don't hate me. I have yet to win $10 million on the lotto so I can quit my job and just write all day. Of course, I don't buy lotto tickets, so that could have something to do with my lack of luck in that area. I'll keep you updated on the $10 million front, let you know when my ship comes in… I recommend against holding your breath… unless you want to hold your breath for your own personal reasons, then by all means, go for it. **

**Before we progress to the chapters, can I just espouse the wonders of writing to you for a few minutes? No, okay, you go and make yourself a cup of tea and a plate of bikkies while I just talk to myself… bring me back an iced vo vo. So yes, I have to research to write my stories, and indeed, my author's notes. Yes, somewhere out there is a little spam bot who has picked up the words 'bilby porn' on my search engine and trying to work out who to send it to so they can generate some revenue. Good luck with that one, guys. Anyways, in my research, I was looking up about homophones, homilies and the like. I won't bore you with what they are if you don't know (although, frankly, it's pretty interesting) but what I did stumble across in my wanderings was the word 'jigger'. **

**Jigger is a word which has 28 different meanings. They are as follows, in no particular order: **** "measuring device", "handcar", "sail", "small weight", "snooker rest", "flea", "prison cell", "boot-sole polisher", "odd-looking person", "distillery", "penis", "cooper's knife", "potter's wheel", "back passage", "lathe", "woman's coat", "sieve", "dancer", "pulley", "door", "thingummy", "golf club", "ouija board", "policeman" and "vagina". How the English language decided that it'd be appropriate to give the same name to a word that means vagina and golf clubs is beyond me. It feels like you're just asking for trouble to me. **

**Right away, that got me to thinking what a sentence would look like if you used jigger for those words. This is what I came up with. A sentence could be constructed this way…**

_**The door opened and the odd looking policeman walked through. He took off his woman's coat he was wearing and walked over to the pool table, laying down his Cooper's knife on the table and picking up a cue. He laid out the snooker rest on the table and proceeded to take a shot, ripping the felt in the process and knocking balls onto the ground and landing on the foot of a local dancer. An onlooker in the corner shook his head, clutching his golf clubs closer to him. "What a complete and utter penis." **_

**So, all that would become…**

_**The jigger opened and the jigger jigger walked through. He took off his jigger he was wearing and walked over to the pool table, laying down his jigger on the table and picking up a cue. He laid out the jigger on the table and proceeded to take a shot, ripping the felt in the process and knocking balls onto the ground and landing on the foot of a local jigger. An onlooker in the corner clutched his jigger close to him and shook his head. "What a complete and utter jigger." **_

**What's my point I hear you ask… well, I don't really have one. Okay, you're demanding a point because I just made you read all that… let me think… I guess, my point, if I have to make one is that… isn't English interesting? No, you don't think so, my bad. **

**Guess we'll get back to this chapter which will have less penis in it… actually, off the top of my head I can't remember what this chapter has in it, so I can't really make that penis promise. Wait while I have a quick skim read… I'm back… okay, yes, know what this chapter is… Olicity talking to her mum. You wouldn't think you could write an almost entire chapter about a phone call, but you'd be wrong, particularly in an Aunty Lou story – I'm such a waffler. **

**And now, I'm going to make myself some dinner. Yes, the thrill ride that is my life never ends. Wahoo. **

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Oliver watched Felicity talking to her mother on the phone, fascinated by the play of emotion crossing over her face.

"No, of course I wasn't avoiding your calls." Felicity paused. "No… I… I… ah, I was going through a tunnel." She pursed her lips. "It was a long tunnel… okay, a very long tunnel."

Oliver watched Felicity carefully as she dealt with her mother. It was kind of endearing seeing how flustered she was getting. It made Oliver want to hug her, but he wasn't sure Felicity would appreciate the gesture right then.

"No, I wasn't hiding anything from you," said Felicity unevenly. "It's just new, that's all. We're not even dating properly. We're trial dating… yes, that's a thing." Felicity's voice got louder. "It is so a thing, ask anyone!" There was another pause. "No… yes… I don't know," said Felicity in agitation. "I don't know… because I don't." She suddenly blushed and lowered her voice, turning away from him. "I couldn't wear a bra with that dress, Mom," she said hotly. "No, I didn't have one that wouldn't show… well obviously I didn't know _that_ was going to show instead… none of it was planned… it was an accident… no, not the whole night, just the nipples part of it…"

Oliver put a hand to his mouth, trying to hide his smile. These two were just too adorable together.

"I'm not talking about this anymore… no, I'm not," Felicity hesitated. "Yes, I'm at work." She blanched. "No, you can't talk to Oliver!" she said fiercely. "Because he's dead, that's why… okay, fine, he's not dead… but he's got a really bad strep throat, can't talk to anyone… probably ever again."

Oliver cocked his head, and arched an eyebrow.

"Yes, that's a thing," insisted Felicity hotly. "You're not a doctor, you don't know."

Oliver held out his hand. "Let me talk to her."

"No, that wasn't Oliver… it was, umm… it was Bob, the accountant from the twelfth floor… I don't know, Bob's just friendly like that." Felicity waved her hand around, face screwing up as her mother obviously wasn't buying what she was selling. "Fine, fine," snapped Felicity, "here, talk to him." She shoved the phone at Oliver. "You've just been miraculously cured from your affliction, mazel tov."

"Oh good," said Oliver teasingly, "I was really worried there for a moment." He put the phone to his ear, still smiling. "Hello, Ms. Smoak, it's wonderful to finally meet you."

"Please, call me Donna."

Oliver inclined his head. "Donna."

"So, you and my daughter, hmm?"

"Yes," said Oliver huskily. He looked over at Felicity who was staring at him while anxiously gnawing on her thumbnail.

"Trial dating."

"Yes."

"Do you know what that is?"

"It's whatever Felicity needs it to be."

"Good answer," said Donna approvingly.

"Well, it's the truth."

"So, does trial dating including meeting the mother in person?"

"I'd like it to," said Oliver sincerely. He took a chance. "You know, I have a business trip planned to LA the day after next. Las Vegas is just a short plane trip away. Why don't Felicity and I come for a quick visit?"

Felicity's eyes went so large they threatened to swallow her whole face. She shook her head frantically at him.

"That sounds wonderful," said Donna excitedly. "I'm so bored cooped up in this place. I mean, the people are lovely and all, but it's not the same as family."

"That's settled then," said Oliver, ignoring Felicity's horror at even the suggestion of such a thing. She was waving her arms around like she was trying to land a jumbo jet, attempting to signal for Oliver to abort the entire thing. "Felicity's very excited. We both are."

"Oh, I bet she is," said Donna knowingly. "Is my daughter currently flapping around at you like a duck caught in molasses while having a colonoscopy?"

Oliver couldn't help but burst out laughing at that pretty accurate description. "No," he said in amusement, "your daughter looks gorgeous, like she always does."

"But there are shades of molasses and colonoscopy, isn't there?"

Oliver was still smiling as he tried to give a reassuring look to the stricken Felicity. "Maybe just a hint," he conceded.

"Felicity thinks if I know too much about her life I'll interfere," said Donna. She sighed. "She's always been like that."

"Felicity's just had a bit of a trying day today," said Oliver sympathetically. "We didn't really plan on announcing our involvement—"

"With a centerfold spread of my daughter?" offered up Donna dryly. "That's good to know."

Oliver immediately became serious. "Donna, that picture… I didn't know… I'd never have let anyone exploit Felicity like that – you have to know that."

"I know that I really wasn't expecting to open the newspaper, and see my daughter like that," said Donna. "You two looked like you were enjoying yourselves."

Oliver pulled a face. He really didn't know how to answer that one without sounding like a jerk or worse.

Felicity was back to gnawing on her thumbnail, a stressed expression on her face. "What?" she mouthed.

He shook his head at her. "Donna, I can promise you, my intentions towards your daughter are entirely honorable."

"We're looking at the same picture, right?" asked Donna laconically. "Because I know men, and that expression on your face tells a whole different story."

Oliver rubbed the back of his head. "Okay, my honorable intentions were more in the upper ninety percentile at that exact moment," he conceded. There was silence on the other end of the phone. "Seventy percentile?" Oliver offered up weakly. More silence. "Would you buy into the fifties?" He looked up to the ceiling, giving in. "Okay, it was barely double digits due to the fact so little blood was currently circulating through my brain right then," he blurted out with raw honesty.

"There, doesn't it feel better to tell the truth?" said Donna easily.

Felicity was looking at him in horror for his candor, and then she was slapping him hard in the chest with both hands. "It feels a little slappy to be honest," said Oliver, rubbing his chest.

Felicity was earnestly freaking out now. She circled around a couple of times on the spot, seeming to be looking for a place to hide. Felicity eventually settled on crawling under his desk.

Oliver bent over, tilting his head to watch Felicity take up residence under his desk. "Donna, I'm sorry, I may have to go. There seems to be a situation developing here that needs my attention."

"Sugar, no caffeine, just lots of sugar. That usually calms her down."

"Okay, thanks for the advice," said Oliver, still watching Felicity as she hid out under his desk. "And about my intentions thing, I promise you, Donna, they are honorable."

"Just look after my little girl, and we'll talk about it when we meet properly."

"I'm looking forward to it."

That earned him an accusatory look from Felicity.

Oliver mimed the word 'band aid' to her, making a ripping motion with his hand in the air. "We'll call before we get there, okay?"

"That'd be wonderful, Oliver, and thank you for making my daughter answer her phone."

"That was all Felicity," said Oliver quickly. "She wanted to talk to you."

"You're a terrible liar… I like that in my daughter's boyfriends." And then she was hanging up.

Oliver put Felicity's phone on his desk, still smiling. "Okay, you, out from under there."

"No, this is where I live now that you felt like it was a good idea to talk to my mother about our sex life," said Felicity stubbornly.

"We don't have a sex life," said Oliver, the words coming out a little more frustrated than he'd intended. "We have a pre-sex life."

"One that you felt compelled to tell my mom about," exclaimed Felicity in outrage.

"Felicity, I didn't have to tell her anything. She saw the picture."

She buried her hands in her face. "This is a nightmare."

"I don't think it is, but even if it was, it's not something that is going to be solved with you hiding under a desk. That's not a good game plan."

"Why not?" said Felicity petulantly. "I think it's an amazing game plan."

Oliver bent over, hands on his knees as he talked to her. "The desk is made of glass, and it's in a glass room. If you're looking for the hiding factor, that's two strikes against it being a good idea."

Felicity scowled.

"Plus, you're the one worried about public opinion. When I sit down at my desk, your head will practically be in my lap…" Oliver paused, looking suddenly thoughtful. "Actually, can't quite remember where I was going with that. Now that I think about it, I don't see a downside to that at all… ow!"

Felicity had reached out and pinched his leg. "Stop that," she said in annoyance. "Talk like that is what got us into this situation to start with."

"It's not a situation unless we make it into one," said Oliver, remembering Diggle's words to him. "Everything is going to be fine, Felicity, I promise. Please come out from underneath the desk."

Felicity sighed heavily, and there was a long moment where she just stared directly ahead, but then she was reluctantly coming out. Oliver took her hand to help her to her feet. He gave her a winning smile. "See, it's not that bad. The world didn't end."

"Easy for you to say," grumbled Felicity. Oliver went to put his arms around her waist, but Felicity took a quick step back. "I really think we shouldn't be… you know, not here at the office." She sent him an apologetic look. "Don't you think?"

Oliver couldn't even imagine a good reason not to hold Felicity in his arms. Even if both of his arms were broken he'd still want to do that, but he understood her hesitation. "Fine, no overt PDA's while we're at work." He gave her a smile. "As long as you realize that there will be just more of them to catch up on out of hours," said Oliver teasingly.

"As long as there are no photographers around to capture the moment, I'm fine with that," said Felicity unevenly. "Or my mother."

"Crisis passed?" asked Oliver hopefully.

Felicity wrinkled her nose. "I guess. Mom knows, that's as bad as it can get."

"That's the spirit."

"Just, please, Oliver, when you meet her in person, don't talk about, you know, that aspect of our relationship," Felicity pleaded with him.

"I didn't really mean to in the first place," he protested. "There is just something about your mom that makes you want to tell the truth."

"Yes," said Felicity determinedly, "and that can never happen again."

"I feel that's a little harsh. There are some truths we can share." He looked at her. "Right?"

"Just let me do all the talking when we go and see her," Felicity instructed him.

"If that'll make you feel better."

"Deep-fried twinkies will make me feel better, the other is just damage control."

"Who would deep-fry a twinkie?" asked Oliver, mystified.

"You have to batter it first, obviously."

"There is nothing obvious about deep-fried twinkies," said Oliver unevenly. He smiled at her. "But we're okay, aren't we? I mean, assuming neither one of us eats that twinkie thing. Obviously that will kill us outright." He looked at her intently. "Felicity?"

Felicity smoothed down her skirt, and straightened her glasses. "Okay, my time under your desk gave me some clarity—"

"Wow, that desk thing really works for you, doesn't it?"

"When I walked in here this morning I was reading about some poor woman being butchered, and having her eyes torn out of her head." Felicity straightened up. "That really puts this whole thing into perspective. So what if everyone knows about us? So what if my mom knows about us?" Her voice wavered slightly over that last one. "In the grand scheme of things, that is nothing… less than nothing even."

Oliver smiled, very relieved to hear Felicity say that.

Her expression took on an element of fierceness. "But just so you know, mister, if you screw me over with changing your mind about us now that we're public…" Felicity jabbed his chest hard, "then those five years on the island will seem like summer camp."

For some reason, Oliver found her threats endearing. "You don't have a mean bone in your body, Felicity. It's not in you to torture someone, at least not intentionally." He took her hands again. "But it's a moot point anyways because I'm not going to change my mind. No matter what happens going forward, I know I want us to face it together. There really isn't an option in my mind any more. You don't have to worry about me changing my mind, Felicity. That's why I'm going along with this trial dating thing… to prove to you that I know what I want, and I'm prepared to do what it takes to have it." Oliver gave a small smile. "To be the kind of man worthy to be with a woman like you."

Felicity drew in an unsteady breath, looking a little overwhelmed. "You're so good at that."

"It's just the truth, Felicity. That's something you and your mother have in common… you tend to make me want to tell the truth."

"Which we both agree is a bad thing when it comes to my mom."

"Did we agree on that?"

"Yes, we absolutely did."

"I must have blacked out when that happened."

"It happens to the best of us," said Felicity straight-faced.

The corners of Oliver's eyes crinkled as he gave her a warm smile. "Just a heads up, I'm going to break our 'no office PDA' rule because you're too adorable right now not to kiss." He didn't give Felicity a chance to argue, simply bending his head, and finding her lips with his own. Oliver savored their kiss, lingering over having the sweet taste of her in his mouth once more.

"You get one," murmured Felicity against his lips, holding his gaze lovingly.

"Then I'd better make it count," Oliver whispered back, deepening the kiss, fingers sliding into her pony-tailed hair. It was a long moment before Oliver found the strength to end their kiss. He drew in a ragged breath, resting his forehead against Felicity. "You'll see, everything is going to be fine, Felicity. The worst of it is over. Going forward… us… it's going to be smooth sailing." Felicity gave a little shudder in his arms, and Oliver drew back, a concerned look on his face. "What's wrong?"

A small frown marked her brow. "It-it's nothing. I just… I don't know, I guess someone just walked over my grave or something." Felicity shook her head, and then smiled determinedly up at him. "It was nothing."

Oliver's arms instinctively tightened around Felicity at just the mention of her grave, even a figurative one. He cupped her face, a reassuring smile on his lips. "We're going to be happy, Felicity," he vowed to her. "You and me… it's going to be amazing… it _is_ amazing."

Felicity relaxed in his arms, face still flushed from his kisses. "Yes, it is," she said happily, and then rested her head on his chest. "But you still don't get to talk when we meet my mom."

Oliver bent his head, and breathed in deeply that intoxicating scent of hers, pretty much ready to agree to anything if he could just keep on holding her in his arms for a few seconds longer.

**#**

"Freshen you up, hon?"

The dark haired man started, not having noticed the waitress who'd come up beside him. He looked up at her as she looked down at him expectantly, jug of coffee in one hand. "Ah, yes, that'd be great, thanks…" He peered at her name tag, eyes squinting behind his glasses. "Eleanor."

Eleanor leant over him, pouring him another cup of coffee. As she did, she noticed what had been holding his attention so completely. "Some girls have all the luck, huh?"

The man followed her gaze to the large photo of the blonde woman being thoroughly kissed by renowned playboy, Oliver Queen. "Yeah, I guess they do," he said slowly.

"It's not going to last," Eleanor confidently predicted, "but who wouldn't ride that gravy train as far as it will go, right? I mean, that Oliver Queen, he's nothing but sex on a stick. I wouldn't kick him out of my bed." She peered closer at the magazine article. "In fact, I wouldn't kick her out of bed either. That's one hot picture." Eleanor eyed him and the suitcase on the seat beside him curiously. "You staying long in Gotham, hon?"

"I was hoping to, but things haven't panned out exactly how I hoped."

"So, you're leaving our fair city, huh?"

He gave a short nod of his head.

"Where to next?"

The man's gaze drifted back to the photo. "I hear Starling City is nice this time of year."

"Well, you know what they say, when one door closes, another opens," said Eleanor philosophically. "Maybe your luck will change in Starling." She smiled and inclined her head towards the picture. "Like hers did."

"Maybe," said the man softly, gaze drifting back to the photo, losing himself in his thoughts.

**A/N****: And another thread to this mystery is added. There about three of them – the murder, Olicity getting through their dates, this mystery guy, and the Briggle fun. I'm attempting weave them altogether into a (hopefully) coherent story that overlap one another. Therein lies the plan, anyways! It takes us a while to get to the actual meeting of Olicity and Donna, but we'll get there. I get sidetracked as always, laying down all the other things which are going on simultaneously. This is kind of an ambitious fic to be honest, and that's before you factor in I'm peppering in stuff for the fic after this one! **

**Probably bit off more than I can chew to be honest, particularly when I go back to work next week. There has been a big staff turnover and I have to cover a lot of shifts while recruiting and then training more staff. Oh joy. 2015 is already exhausting me and it hasn't even started professionally for me! Long story short, I may not be able to keep the pace up on this fic soon… but I guess we'll see. In the meantime, I'll see you in a day's time for the next installment. Get it while it's going. ;) **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N****: Okay, so, you're back again. Excellent, you fell for my evil plan and you're back in my nefarious clutches. **

**I don't have much of a ramble in mind today. I don't have much of a mind today. Probably just as well I'm not operating heavy machinery really. I am currently watching a little spider carry a corpse of a fly up my screen door though. Man, that's a completely vertical drag, with something the same size as he is. They should totally make a superhero based on one of those little guys… oh wait, I think Stan Lee might have gotten there before me on that one. Curse you, Stan Lee, you beat me out by sixty years! I probably would have made Spiderman's costume black and grey though… or maybe spots… jury is still out on that one. Fun fact, do any of you know who the Phantom is? You know, the Ghost Who Walks? His costume was meant to be black but when the first issue went to print they made a mistake and did it as purple instead… and it just kind stuck. **

**Is it cool or tragic that I know so much cartoon trivia? Don't answer that, let's both just pretend you said cool, okay? Fantastic, thanks. **

**This chapter… hmm… I introduce a new element… well, not a new element, flesh out a previously established one, I guess. Then there is just more Olicity banter, because hey, why the heck not, right? There can never be too much Olicity cuteness in the world, just sayin'. **

**Okay, I think that's all that is in my brain for right now. Except that I'm looking forward to my lunch today. I made a kick ass quiche last night and I'm looking forward to having another crack at it. I don't really like the taste of eggs (or, as I call them, vagina bubbles… possibly part of the reason I'm not a huge fan to be honest), so I try and disguise the taste of them as much as I can. Consequently, my quiche has more bacon and ham in it than an actual pig… and onions, capsicum, cheese, asparagus, corn and sour cream. Those vagina bubbles don't stand a chance! Odd sentence. Not the first, I suppose, unlikely to be the last. **

**Okay, clear the image of vagina bubbles from your head and read the next chapter. Have fun… **

**CHAPTER FIVE**

The short man with the slicked back hair shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other. The multiple gold chains around his neck, tinkled together vaguely musically. Lenny Kolowski cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ross, but… ahh... my contacts in Starling, they couldn't find that Forbes-Hamilton guy you're lookin' for. He's gone to ground."

The tall but slender Ross Ross looked out the window of the rustic cabin into the heavily wooded landscape of the backwoods of Iowa, his back to the other man. He lifted a hand to his bald head, and stroked the back of the tiger he had tattooed over a great portion of his head and along one cheek. "Is that right?"

"Ah, yeah, sorry, boss." Lenny flicked a nervous glance at the other man in the room. The large silhouette of the unmoving and silent Ross' right hand man managed to somehow intimidate all the more for its stillness.

"Lenny, how long have we been in association together?" asked Ross idly, eyes still on the view out the window.

"Um… dunno, boss. Guess I've been helping you out for about five years now."

"And remind me again, what is your role in my organization?"

Lenny licked his lips, and resisted the urge to wipe at the sweat on his brow. "I… ah… I find people for you, boss. People that don't wanna be found."

"Exactly, you're like a bloodhound, sniffing out the intended targets of a hunter." Ross turned around, his expression mild. "And what do you think the use of a bloodhound who can no longer track is to that hunter?"

Lenny blinked rapidly, the sweat from his forehead dripping down into them and making them water from the stinging. "Look, boss, I tried, I really did. Wherever Forbes-Hamilton is, he's really gone to ground. This place, it's right off the grid. There isn't even a whisper about him. Nuthin'. It's like he's been sucked off the face of the earth, him and that moose of a dog of his."

"Bunny Forbes-Hamilton is more flamboyant than a rainbow shoved up a unicorn's ass," said Ross coolly. "The man couldn't be subtle or low key to save his life. How could a man such as that simply drop off the radar?"

Lenny gave a helpless shrug. "I dunno. He must have someone helping him. Someone good."

"I assumed I had someone better, Lenny. Was I wrong in that assumption?"

"Look, boss, I tried, I really did. I used every contact I had in that town and I got a lot. Hell, I've even got an inside guy on Forbes-Hamilton's team and they got nuthin'. One minute he was there, the next he and his dog was gone." He continued on eagerly. "But I'm real certain they're still in Starling City. You can't move a dog like that without being noticed, one way or the other. He's holed up somewhere in that city, I'm sure of it."

"And that seems to be the only thing you seem certain of," said Ross flatly.

"Yeah, well, it's a big place," said Lenny unhappily, "but I got my people out looking for him. It's only a matter of time. He's going to make a mistake, and when he does, one of my boys will be there. Franco is in Starling City and he's running the show for me. He'll be in contact as soon as he hears anythin'."

"Ah yes, Mr. Franconelli, the gentlemen overly fond of Old Spice men's cologne."

"Yeah, the fumes can be pretty noxious," agreed Lenny readily. "He really loves that cologne… it ain't quite right, you know."

"And you're confident he can be trusted."

Lenny blinked. "What?"

"Forbes-Hamilton is a very wealthy man. He has the resources to buy just about any man on the planet."

"Oh yeah, no, Franco is a loyal one, and I pay him well. He ain't gonna go turncoat on us. Plus, he hates fags and ain't nobody faggier than Forbes-Hamilton."

"Who Forbes-Hamilton choses to sleep with is of no interest to me," said Ross coldly. "What interests me is that he was directly responsible for the death of my brother."

"I know, boss. Albert was a good guy and a snappy dresser. Real bad poker player though, but I liked that about him." He gave a nervous smile, hoping Ross would join in on the little joke with him, but the other man's gaze remained unamused. "Commiserations on your loss," said Lenny quickly. "It was a real shame… and kinda weird how he went out. I mean, frozen chickens, who dies from frozen chickens?"

"He died because Forbes-Hamilton led a band of assassins to his door," said Ross bitterly.

Lenny made a confused face. "What kind of assassins use frozen chickens to off their mark?"

"I don't know, Lenny, but once Forbes-Hamilton gives me their names, I'll be able to ask them while I'm flaying the flesh from their bones."

"Oh, okay, good plan, boss," said Lenny unevenly. More sweat dropped into his eyes, he blinked repeatedly to clear it.

"But first I need to know where Forbes-Hamilton is, and you don't seem to be very helpful in that department."

"My guy's will turn something up," said Lenny hastily. "I swear, boss, I just need a little more time."

"Very well."

"Really?" asked Lenny in surprise.

"If you say Mr. Franconelli will secure the information for us, I have no reason to doubt you or him."

Lenny's shoulders sagged in relief. "Oh great, good." He gave a high-pitched little giggle. "You know, for a minute there, I was kinda worried—"

"What?" asked Ross with a little smile.

"I don't know, I thought this was gonna end badly," blurted out Lenny.

"In what way?" Ross walked over to the table which separated them and laid his hands on a large, black case.

"Oh you know, you hear rumors," said Lenny reluctantly, eyeing the case nervously.

"Rumors?"

"Yeah, about what happens to guys who disappoint you." Lenny gave an uneven smile. "But, you know, people make up some weird shit sometimes."

"They do indeed, Leonard," said Ross smoothly. He opened the case to reveal a dismantled high powered rifle.

Lenny made a noisy gulping noise at the sight of the high caliber rifle. "But I'm glad we've got an understanding goin' on and all, boss."

Ross gave a pleasant smile. "Oh yes, my bloodhound who can no longer track, I think we understand each other perfectly." He started to calmly assemble the rifle.

All the blood drained from Lenny's face. "I should be runnin' now, shouldn't I?" he offered up weakly.

"If that would make you feel better, than certainly, by all means."

Lenny gave a little noise of distress, and then promptly turned around, bolting from the cabin and into the woods as fast as his short legs could carry him.

Ross just continued to calmly assemble his rifle as the other man in the room came up beside him. "Well, that was a disappointing meeting, Walter." He loaded a clip into his rifle. "It looks like a little trip to Starling City is in order."

"I'll take care of it."

Ross smiled at him. "You always do." He looked down at the weapon in his hand. "Still, at least today won't be a complete write off. I can get a little exercise. It's always good to have some fresh air in my lungs."

"It won't be much of a hunt."

Ross shrugged. "Lenny has a lot of nervous energy. That could make for some entertainment. I'm sure I can stretch this out to be an amusing distraction."

"I'll pack while you're gone."

Ross glanced at him, a hard look in his eye. "Don't pack light. Along with Forbes-Hamilton, I'll be wanting to deal with the people who made the misguided decision to hide him. Every one of them is going to suffer in my brother's name. Them and everyone they love. Albert's memory deserves nothing less than a complete and utter bloodbath." He slung the rifle over his shoulder. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I have a bloodhound who needs to be put out of his misery."

"Happy hunting."

Ross smiled as he walked towards the still open door. "Oh… always, my friend. Always."

**#**

Oliver widened his steps to keep up with Felicity as she hurried along the walkway between the fleet of Queen Consolidated cars. "Stop rushing," he said, taking her arm, "you'll trip."

Felicity's high heels continued their furious clacking on the concrete floor, not breaking her pace. "We're late," she said in agitation, clutching a stack of files to her chest. "We have to get across town in less than half an hour for that meeting."

"We'll make it," said Oliver confidently. He reached out with his free hand for the paperwork she was carrying. "Here, give me those."

Felicity somehow managed to free one of her hands to slap his away. "Don't touch my files. We agreed after last time you'd never lay hands on them again."

"I don't remember agreeing to that. Guess I must have blacked out again."

"Guess so."

"I'm doing that a lot lately," said Oliver, trying to maintain a straight face. "I should probably see someone about that."

"As long as you don't ever touch my files again, I don't mind what you do."

"You're not really still mad about that, are you? I helped tidy them up."

Felicity gave him a sideways look.

"Alright, I brought you coffee while you tidied them up," he conceded. Oliver sent her his best winsome smile. "That kind of counts, doesn't it?"

"The court would like to refer the defendant back to the aforementioned agreement that he's no longer allowed to touch my files under pain of death," said Felicity, with mock snippiness.

"It wasn't really that bad, was it?"

Felicity gave him an exasperated look. "There was less clean up after Chernobyl. I spent three days in that filing room, trying to restore order to my systems. You were like a one man virus intent on destroying the sacredness of the filing system. What you did to my color coding system should have been on trial at Nuremburg."

Oliver's eyebrows shot up. "I'm a Nazi now? Seriously?"

"You may as well be to any kind of filing system."

"I feel like you're overstating this matter just a little bit."

Felicity abruptly stopped walking, and sent him a challenging look. "Am I just?"

"Yes. It's just some colored filing system." Oliver couldn't help but provoke her because then Felicity would get all huffy. Which meant she'd do that incredibly sexy walk she did when she was annoyed with him. Ruffling her feathers like this was too much fun, even though Oliver knew he was ultimately only going to end up torturing himself as he then had to deal with the frustration of being incredibly aroused by her ire with him, but not being allowed to do anything about it. The mental image of Felicity's outraged buttocks swinging their way away from him flashed through Oliver's mind's eye. _Totally worth it._ Even if the sexual frustration did shorten his life expectancy. Some things were just too good to pass up on.

Felicity arched an eyebrow. "Roy sometimes uses your arrows to pick out rocks from between the tread in his Arsenal boots."

"He does what?" squawked Oliver, caught off guard by this piece of new information.

"Aha!" said Felicity triumphantly. "See, not so much fun when someone messes with your thing, now is it?"

"Those arrows need to be perfect," argued Oliver. "They keep me alive on the street. I can't have some idiot bending them even by a fraction, it totally destroys their integrity."

"Office efficiency is what keeps Queen Consolidated alive," said Felicity roundly. "You can't just go into what is essentially the beating heart of something, and start throwing things around willy nilly." Her look became pointed. "From now on, both your willy and your nilly are banned from my filing room. Are we clear, Mr. Queen?"

Was it wrong that he found it more than a little arousing when Felicity ordered him around? Felicity started walking again, and Oliver hastily caught up with her, taking her arm again. "Alright, I'll keep my distance from your files. Personally I still feel like it's a bit of overkill…"

"And there you go, trying to have the last word again. You're in the wrong, Oliver. Admit defeat. It'll be good practice for you when I completely decimate the last shreds of your dignity on the mini-golf course in our rematch."

Damn but he loved it when she sassed him. "Assuming you're going to win, of course."

"It's so cute that you think you have a chance," said Felicity brightly. "It's going to make it all the more fun as I crush the last remnants of your male ego into a flattened out pancake of humiliation."

"I don't think my ego, male or otherwise, is quite as linked to miniature golf as you seem to think it is," said Oliver indulgently. "But I'll let the trash talk slide as long as you make good on your promise that any attempts to destroy me will be done while wearing those white shorts of yours."

He earned himself another sideways look as they hurried along. "I don't remember promising that." Felicity's eyes were twinkling. "Guess I must have blacked out, huh?"

"There seems to be an epidemic," said Oliver, mustering as much seriousness as he was able.

"I'll think about the shorts," said Felicity, a knowing little smile on her lips.

"You'll think about it, and then wear them, right?" pushed Oliver.

"You seem very invested in my wardrobe all of a sudden, Oliver." Felicity's lips were twitching. "What's up with that?"

"I've always considered myself a doyen of the fashion world."

"Women's fashion?" teased Felicity.

"Well, if I'm honest, it's more about a particular woman's fashion." Oliver leant closer to her, lips brushing her ear. "A particular woman's everything, if I'm being completely and utterly candid," he said huskily. Oliver allowed himself a small liberty as he said that, fingers of the hand which had a hold of her elbow stroking along the soft inner skin there. He immediately wanted to replace his fingers with his lips, eager to taste every square inch of this woman over and over again.

A pleased little smile escaped Felicity's lips, but then she was pulling abruptly away from him as a young man in a dark suit stepped out in front of them. He smiled at them both. "Hello, Mr. Queen. I'm Taylor, your replacement driver for the day as Mr. Diggle called in sick. I'll take you both to where you need to go today." Taylor's gaze moved over to Felicity as she was transferring the files to her hip. His eyes lingered on the bodice of Felicity's dress, seeming to forget himself for a moment.

Oliver's hand balled into a fist as he knew exactly what the man was thinking right then. He'd obviously seen the photos with the way he was looking at Felicity. Oliver's eyes narrowed menacingly.

"Thanks, Taylor," said Felicity distracted as she rearranged her files, not noticing the other man's open appreciation of her. "If you know any shortcuts to the Neilson building, that would be really helpful. We're running a bit late."

Taylor took a step towards Felicity. "Do you want me to take those for you, Ms. Smoak?"

"No, I'm fine—" even as she said those words, one of the bottom folders slipped from her grasp, and landed on the floor, papers spilling out. "Oh, nuts."

"I've got them," said Taylor, immediately dropping to one knee to pick up the paper.

Oliver noticed in doing so the younger man had angled himself to be able to have an up close and personal appreciation of Felicity's legs. Okay, that was it. He'd tried to follow Diggle's advice about this kind of thing, but there were some things which were simply not reasonable to expect of him. Oliver stepped forward on the pretense of helping as well, but he made sure that in the process his foot came down on Taylor's hand. Taylor gave a yelp of pain as Oliver ground his hand into the concrete, even as the other man tried to pull his hand free. "Oh, I'm sorry," said Oliver with feigned concern. "You put your hand right under my foot there. Are you alright, Taylor?"

Taylor scrambled to his feet, nursing his already swelling hand to his chest. "I think it's broken," he gasped.

"Oh no," said Felicity unhappily. "Really?"

"That's no good," said Oliver, putting himself between the younger man and Felicity. "You really need to be more careful, Taylor." Oliver held the man's stricken gaze with one of deadly menace. "A _lot_ more careful." The smile didn't leave Oliver's lips, but the look in his eyes let know Taylor know exactly what they were talking about here. Taylor swallowed hard, looking seriously concerned for his safety in that moment. Perhaps the guy wasn't as dumb as he looked.

"I'm calling Doctor Finn," said Felicity, already dialing her phone. She looked at Taylor. "She's our on call company doctor. Doctor Finn will be able to check on your hand right away."

"Ah… thank you, Ms. Smoak," said Taylor, gaze skittering away from her as he was now fearful at looking directly at her.

Oliver gave him a hard look to let him know he'd made the right choice.

Felicity quickly gave the details to the doctor, and hung up as Oliver walked over to be by her side. "Okay, Sera will be here in twenty minutes. Do you need Oliver to help you to the first aid room?"

"No!" Taylor practically shouted. He looked flustered. "Sorry, I mean no, thank you. I've got this."

"Just put some ice on it until Sera arrives," Felicity instructed him. "Oliver's really sorry, aren't you, Oliver?" She looked back over her shoulder at him.

Oliver gave a contrite smile. "Absolutely." As soon as Felicity looked away, the smile dropped from Oliver's face, and his ominous expression told a completely different story. A story Taylor seemed to have no problem reading.

"It was totally my fault," said Taylor anxiously, backing away. "Won't happen again, I promise."

"Well, that's good to hear," said Oliver coolly. "I'd hate to see something even worse happen to you, Taylor."

Taylor backed up some more, and then when he obviously felt he was a safe distance away, he turned around, and headed towards the elevator at more than a trot. Oliver would be lying if he said it wasn't more than a little satisfying to see the little upstart retreating with his tail between his legs.

"Wow, you just seem to be on a roll with being in the wrong place at the wrong time today," noted Felicity, still completely oblivious to what had actually gone on between the two men. "First Mrs. Steinman, and now poor Taylor."

"Guess it's just my day for putting my foot in it," said Oliver innocently.

Felicity glanced at her watch. "Well, accidentally maiming someone has put us even more behind schedule."

"It's fine, I know a shortcut," said Oliver, walking over, and opening the car door for her. The keys were already in the ignition.

"From memory your shortcuts aren't that short," noted Felicity as she climbed inside the car.

"This one will be. Buckle up." Oliver walked around, and climbed into the driver's seat. He turned, and smiled at her.

"Don't sit there smiling at me like an idiot," Felicity admonished him, even as she smiled back at him. "We're running late for your Captain of Industry thing."

"Where do you want to go for our next date tonight?" asked Oliver.

"We can't have a date tonight, remember? We're doing that briefing thing for Bunny's situation, and then you've got to patrol. There won't be enough time."

Oliver scowled. "Yet another reason we need to get Bunny out of the lair as soon as possible."

"Bunny is the one who picked out the white shorts for me to wear to our golf night," said Felicity sweetly.

"Damn it, Felicity," said a stricken Oliver, "don't give me a reason to like the guy. I don't want that."

Felicity laughed. "Tough. By the end of this you're going to love Bunny. I just feel it in my bones."

Oliver started the engine. "Your bones are crazy," he said emphatically. "Bunny is a huge liability to our team's safety."

"We'll see," said Felicity, settling back in her seat. "I guess time will tell who is right about Bunny." She flashed him a cheeky smile. "Spoiler alert… it's me."

"Now who has to have the last word in an argument?" asked Oliver tolerantly.

"He asked, in a thinly veiled attempt to have the last word," said Felicity impishly.

"She responded, to make sure it was her," shot back Oliver.

Felicity mouthed the words 'last word' to Oliver very slowly and distinctly. Unfortunately Oliver became immediately distracted with Felicity's lips in the process, and he almost drove them into a pole, admittedly at less than five miles an hour, but still.

"Oliver!"

His attention was instantly back on the steering the car, and Oliver swerved to avoid the pole just in time.

Felicity let out a relieved breath, and then she was sending him a cheeky look. "And just so you know, along with 'has to have the last word' on my cons list, distracted driver is still definitely on it."

Oliver just smiled, not bothered by her critique of his driving. "Only with you, Felicity. Only with you."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N****: Back to work today, so, I've got my work brain in rather than my creative one. Work brain is rather boring. Sorry about that. Plus, I'm in a bit of that post holiday funk that you get on the first day back at work. I'll be back one day and it'll be gone, mainly because it'll feel like I haven't had any holidays at all by the end of day 1. Oh well, at least I got stuff done. **

**Just heard that Arrow got renewed for Season 4 – Yay, that's good. :D **

**This chapter… umm, we have some Boggle, followed by some Broggle… and then Felicity and Broggle… very hard to get an F into Broggle, although, without Bunny there, it'd be Froggle, which is kinda cute. And then there is a bit of exposition in this chapter, so, there is that. And it's quite a long chapter. Man, when I first started writing my chapters would be lucky to make it to 1000. How the times have changed. **

**Anyhoo, here is the chappy, wish me luck at work… . **

**CHAPTER SIX**

Oliver was conscious of his audience, but he studiously ignored them, instead, concentrating on the next rung of the salmon ladder. It felt good to release some energy after the tensions of the day.

Bunny was looking up at him, head cocked to one side. "What am I seeing here?"

Diggle was standing beside him, looking up at Oliver as well. "On the surface it looks like a guy working out."

"Mm," murmured Bunny, "and what a thing of beauty it is, but I'm seeing a lot of angry energy messing with the pretty."

Oliver gritted his teeth, and tried not to make eye contact. Eye contact would mean some kind of tacit approval that he wanted to talk about it. He didn't want to talk about it because if he talked about it, he'd get madder than he already was. Instead he focused on doing the next three rungs in rapid succession.

Diggle watched the burst of sudden energy. "He does this, sweats, internalizes, and then sweats some more."

"Sounds like a lot of parties I went to in the eighties," mused Bunny absently.

Diggle half-smiled. "Pretty sure it's not the same thing."

"Monkey, honey, do you want to talk about it?" Bunny called up to him sympathetically.

"Talk about what?" grunted Oliver, still not looking at them. He was at the top of the salmon ladder, and he hauled himself up, so that his stomach was resting on the bar, taking a small breather.

"Whatever it is which is making you so tense."

"I'm not tense," bit out Oliver. He crossed his legs at the ankle, balancing his body on the bar with little effort.

"Darling, I can practically hear you snap, crackling and pop when you move. You're holding a lot of stress. Did something happen today?"

The events of today flashed through Oliver's mind, and he felt the need to do more exercise. He swung back down on the bar, dropping down a rung. "No."

"It's something to do with my poppet, isn't it?"

"No." Another rung.

Bunny ignored his denials, trying to work it out for himself. "Let's see, you and she weren't fighting when you arrived tonight. So, it's not that." He tapped his finger against his lips. "Let me think, it's nothing between you, so, it's something external. What could that be?"

Diggle had been quiet, but watching Oliver closely. "Felicity's alright, but Oliver's not. Last time we spoke, it was the other way round."

"Oh yes, the photocopy room shut in thing," said Bunny knowingly. "That was quite the kafuffle. My poppet is over her rather sudden reveal as the love interest of Oliver Queen to the world, but maybe someone else isn't?"

"Solid theory," agreed Diggle.

"Don't you two have anything better to do?" ground out Oliver. He jerked down the next two rungs, the bar clanking louder in its slot then was strictly necessary. "You're like two old women standing there, gossiping."

"We're waiting on poppet to get back. Our time is our own until then."

Oliver hung from the middle rung. "And bugging me is the best use of that time?" he asked in frustration.

"Well, you can't beat the view," said Bunny easily.

Oliver let go of the bar, and dropped the six feet to the ground. "Nothing is wrong with me," he snapped, brushing past them both, and walked away.

"So, no fallout from the picture then?" asked Diggle innocently.

Oliver couldn't help himself, he immediately tensed at that question.

"Ohh… you've hit a nerve, brown bear," said Bunny quickly. "Keep going."

Oliver schooled his face into calm neutrality before swinging around to face the other two men. "No."

Bunny leaned over to whisper, loudly, to Diggle. "Is it just me, or did he poof up a bit when you asked that question?"

Oliver tried to relax his flexed muscles, but it was too hard. He was still angry, and his body wasn't ready to let it go yet.

"He poofed," agreed Diggle. He folded his arms in front of his chest, and cast a patient look Oliver's way. "I'm going to take a wild stab in the dark here—"

"Oh, I love it when that happens," said Bunny, suddenly sporting a faraway look on his face. "The wilder the better… the stabbier the better too if I'm honest."

"Stay on point here, Bunny."

"Sorry, darling, you were saying? What's got our monkey all upset?"

"Felicity… and that photo," deduced Diggle.

"But she's over it," protested Bunny.

"Not the issue. I'm guessing the issue is that the photo has generated some interest in Felicity that Oliver isn't taking all that well."

"I'm still here, right?" asked Oliver in annoyance as they talked about him like he wasn't there. "I haven't turned invisible or anything?"

"I don't think so, honey, but we should really make sure." Bunny was immediately in front of him, running his hands all over Oliver's chest and arms.

Oliver's lips pressed together in ire. "Stop that."

"I like to be thorough in these things," said Bunny, still enjoying his hands on confirmation.

Roy walked down the stairs at that moment, and arched an eyebrow at the sight of Bunny's hands still resting on Oliver's chest. "You fell for that free breast exam scam, huh? Rookie mistake."

Oliver slapped Bunny's hands away. "You're late," he bit out.

"And a good evening to you too, Mr. Sunshine," responded an unfazed Roy.

"Monkey's in a snit," Bunny explained. "He's upset about that photo in the paper."

"I would be too if that was Thea," said Roy without hesitation. He looked at Oliver. "I guess you'd be upset about that as well, seeing as Thea's your sister and all."

"I'm not upset!" shouted Oliver.

"Well, I'm convinced," said Bunny brightly. "How about everyone else?"

Oliver closed his eyes, and willed himself to calm down. He bit out his next words with icy cold precision. "I'm fine. Nothing happened."

Roy's phone suddenly rang, and he reached for it. "Hold up. Don't do or say anything interesting until I read this." Roy read the text. "Oh." Then he hastily deleted it.

Oliver frowned, noting the way Roy suddenly was avoiding eye contact. "Who was that?"

"No one," said Roy hastily.

"What did they want?"

"Nothing."

"Oh… another mystery," said Bunny in delight. "I feel like Miss Marple on the hunt for clues."

"Wouldn't that be Hercule Poirot?" asked Diggle in amusement.

"Darling, perish the thought," exclaimed Bunny. "I'd never be caught dead with a mustache. It doesn't suit my bone structure at all."

Roy screwed up his face. "Who are these people?"

Diggle shook his head at him. "Really?"

"What?" protested Roy. "I don't know."

"They're two of the most well-known figures in literature," explained Bunny. "Creations of none other than the brilliant Agatha Christie."

Roy's look continued to be blank.

"Oh, kitten," sighed Bunny, "I have so much to teach you."

Roy's phone rang again, but he made no move to answer it.

Oliver arched an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to get that?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"Who's ringing you, Roy?" Oliver's radar was up, and pinging wildly.

"Just some friends of mine," said Roy vaguely.

"What do they want?"

"To say hi."

Oliver's eyes narrowed. "They're not trying to drag you back into their world, are they?" Roy had fought so hard to be more than some street punk. Oliver was damned if he was going to let Roy go back to that life.

Roy gave a snort. "More like they want to get into mine."

"What does that mean?" asked Oliver.

Roy looked suddenly stricken. "Ah… nothing." Oliver held his gaze unflinchingly, letting the younger man know he wasn't going to give up on this. Roy grimaced. "Okay, so, a couple of friends of mine have been ringing me for, well, ah—"

"For what, Roy?" Oliver demanded to know.

"Don't get mad."

"I'm not going to get mad," said Oliver hotly.

"You already sound mad."

"That's because you're taking so damn long to tell me what is going on," growled Oliver. He really didn't have the patience for this, not after the day he'd had. "Just tell me what they wanted!"

"Felicity's phone number," blurted out Roy.

Oliver's eyes widened. "What?"

"Oh dear," said Bunny. "Kitten, there are just some times in life that you should lie. That was one of them."

Oliver could feel his blood pressure rising again. "Felicity's phone number," he repeated, voice dropping to a menacing tone.

"I didn't give it to them," said Roy quickly. "Obviously. But they saw the photo of you and her… and… well… you know."

Bunny pursed his lips. "Kitten, I'm sure your friends are a delight—"

"Yeah, no, they're not."

"But do they honestly believe Felicity or any woman would be interested in them over a gorgeous billionaire with a mystery of danger and intrigue?" Bunny wrinkled his nose. "They are some very deluded friends you have there, my darling."

"I think they were more looking down the road to when Oliver dumped Felicity, and she was broken-hearted and vulnerable. Pretty much think that was when they were seeing their opportunity." Roy shifted a little uncomfortably on the spot. "I mentioned they weren't close friends, right?"

Oliver stood there, hands balled into fists, just wanting to punch holes into every wall in the place.

"Oliver, you need to calm down," said Diggle evenly.

"You really do, monkey," agreed Bunny, looking at him in concern. "You're all puffy and red. You look set to explode."

"So, I should be okay with every asshole in the city looking at my girlfriend like she's a piece of meat?" spat out Oliver. "I should just laugh that one off, should I?" The whole day had been like this. Taylor had only been the beginning. Wherever they'd gone, men's gazes had followed Felicity. Oliver had been forced to watch those men mentally strip Felicity naked with their eyes, turning her into merely this sexual being for their gratification. Oliver wanted to scream at them that she was so much more than that. Felicity was brilliant and funny and kind and compassionate and so many other things that truly mattered that it offended Oliver to his deepest core that all they were appreciating of her was her looks, and what pleasure they could get from that. All of those men with their lingering looks and low-toned conversations with one another had Oliver hanging by a thread. He was just so angry that they could objectify Felicity in that way.

"You can't control what other people think or do, Oliver," said Diggle wisely. "You know that. You're not responsible for other people's reactions."

"Aren't I?" snapped Oliver. "I'm Oliver Queen, and apparently, who I'm kissing is of interest to the entire world. I dragged Felicity into that shark pool."

"Dragged is a strong word," protested Diggle. "Felicity dove in willingly. She can handle this."

"Felicity can't swim!" shouted Oliver. "She can only aggressively float!" For all her intelligence, Felicity still had this air of vulnerability to her that just ignited the protective instinct in Oliver like nothing he'd known before. He needed to ensure no kind of harm ever came to Felicity – physical, emotional, psychological. It was like a primary directive, embedded in his soul now. Oliver couldn't function any other way. He had to protect her against the world, no matter how impossible a task that might be. Oliver knew he'd die trying.

The other three men exchanged looks at that loud proclamation.

"You're going to have to explain to me what that means one days," said Diggle slowly, "but Felicity can handle this, I promise you, Oliver. She's a lot tougher than you're giving her credit for."

"I don't want her to be tough," he said sharply. Oliver's stomach churned in anguish at just the thought of it. "I don't want Felicity to become jaded and world weary, particularly not because of me."

"Darling, life happens, we can't stop the world from turning," said Bunny practically. "As much as it pains me to say it, my poppet is going to have negative life experiences, has done already. It's shaped who she is today, and will continue to shape who she is tomorrow."

"I don't want Felicity to change," said Oliver sharply. "She's perfect how she is." It was a little muddled in Oliver's overheated brain right then. He knew all of the hardships Felicity had encountered had worked towards creating the incredible creature he was head over heels in love with now. Oliver understood that, and as much as it pained him to know Felicity had been hurt in the past, it had shaped her. His issue was being a source of new pain which would cause her to harden, to start to edge her towards what he'd become on the island. Even the thought of such a thing sent Oliver into a tailspin.

"Oliver, Felicity is going to grow and change," said Diggle evenly. "You can't stop that. You shouldn't want to stop that."

"Of course I don't want to stop that," said Oliver in horror. "That's not what I'm saying."

"What are you saying?" asked Roy.

"I'm saying I don't want your damn friends wanting to have sex with my girlfriend!" he spat out.

"But you can't stop that," pointed out Roy.

Oliver's eyes narrowed ominously. "I can give it a red hot try."

Bunny put a hand to his chest, and leaned over towards Diggle. "Is it wrong that I'm both concerned, but also slightly aroused by this alpha male thing monkey has going on?"

"No good can come of you thumping your chest, and going all cave man on Felicity," said Diggle firmly. "And that's before we even delve into Bunny's apparent fascination with it."

"Oh, delve all you want, monkey," said Bunny encouragingly. "As deep as you want to go."

"Do I look like I'm in the mood to put up with your flirting crap?" snarled Oliver.

"So aggressive," said Bunny approvingly. "I'm tingling all over."

"It's not being a cave man wanting to protect someone you love," said Oliver angrily. "Particularly if that someone doesn't have the skill set to deal with men treating her like a sex toy."

Diggle sighed, and looked troubled. "What have you done, Oliver?"

"What do you mean?" asked Oliver, on guard.

"He's asking if we need to get Bunny's little man, Mr. Leo, to clean up the dead bodies," said Roy.

Oliver's jaw hardened. "Don't be ridiculous. I haven't killed anyone."

"Well, you shoot people with arrows you're trying to help, so it was on the cards," said Roy flatly.

"Are you still not over that?" asked Oliver in frustration.

"Apparently not."

Diggle wasn't letting it go. "Okay, no body count, but what have you done so far today then?"

"Nothing."

"And by nothing you mean…"

Oliver moved his shoulders restlessly. "I broke a guy's hand," he admitted begrudgingly.

"Oh my," breathed Bunny, "still aroused. I may have a problem."

Diggle arched an eyebrow. "Broke it?"

"He shouldn't have tried to pull it out from under my foot."

"Yeah, because that's not totally a normal response to being stood on," said Diggle laconically.

Oliver was starting to get warmed up now. "Then there was the guy in the elevator I elbowed in the face."

"Accidentally."

"Obviously, they were all accidents," he said with feigned sweetness. That one had been particularly satisfying because the asshole jerk had actually had the nerve to 'accidentally' brush against Felicity's breasts as he reached past her to hit the elevator key. Oliver had literally seen red. They'd gotten out on the floor below the creep's, and Oliver had made sure Felicity went ahead of him out of the elevator. It gave him just enough time to plant his elbow in the other man's face very hard as Oliver walked out of the elevator. He'd felt the bones of the man's nose give against his elbow, but he hadn't turned around, just kept walking out of the elevator, and down the corridor to catch up with the oblivious Felicity. "Then there were the two guys at the coffee shop."

"What happened to them?"

"It was the strangest thing, but somehow they managed to spill hot coffee all over their laps."

"That does sound strange." Diggle cocked an eyebrow. "You do realize this rampage has to stop, right?"

"You're not seeing how they're looking at Felicity," said Oliver in aggravation. "I can see it in their eyes when they look at her, all the stuff they're thinking. Those men had her stripped naked and-and—" He closed his eyes. "I can't finish that sentence. Not without punching something."

"I know," said Diggle, eyeing him cautiously, "Mr. Throbby is so big right now he's affecting the tides more than the moon is."

Oliver put a hand to his telltale vein. "Felicity shouldn't have to deal with every douche in the city crawling out from underneath the woodwork, and thinking she's some kind of easy mark just because she's with me," he said tightly. Mr. Throbby pulsed against his fingers. Oliver hated this so much.

"Monkey, women shouldn't have to deal with a lot of things, like if you're not a size zero, you're unattractive, or getting older means you're no longer relevant or being paid seventy cents in the dollar compared to a man. I don't know what the hell that last thing about, I really don't. There are a lot of unfair things in this world for both genders. Felicity will cope. She's just that type of woman."

"I don't want her to cope," said Oliver in despair. "I just want her to be happy, and not have to worry about anything."

"Well, if you find that Nirvana, be sure to let the rest of us know," said Diggle dryly. "I don't think that world actually exists, Oliver. Not while you still draw breath, anyways."

Oliver rubbed his hand over his face, suddenly tired. He dropped his hand away, and fixed them all with a determined look. "None of you can ask me not to protect Felicity. That is just not something I'm capable of doing."

"We're just saying temper your reactions," said Diggle. "It's very easy for you to kill a man. You can't lose control."

"I was perfectly in control with all of those men today," said Oliver sharply. "Because, like you said, they're not dead."

"For what it's worth, I'm on your side, Oliver," said Roy. "If some rando was brushing up against Thea's breast in an elevator, I'd totally take him out."

"You see, Roy agrees with you," said Diggle. "If that doesn't make you realize you're in the wrong, then nothing will."

"Hey!" said Roy in annoyance.

The sound of the side door opening had Oliver shooting them a warning look. "Not one word to Felicity. I don't want her to know about any of this."

Felicity walked into the room, and then let Ladybug off his leash. The dog immediately headed for his water bowl, and began to noisily lap up the water. "Ladybug and I have marked a lot of territory tonight," declared Felicity as Ladybug slurped loudly at his water bowl. "There was a lot of peeing, hence the need for rehydration." She stopped abruptly. "Just to be clear, by Ladybug, not me." Felicity scrunched up her nose. "Although, I do kinda need to pee now."

Oliver relaxed on seeing Felicity, and listening to her free form thought process. He hadn't exactly been thrilled to arrive and find out that Felicity had gotten there first, and volunteered to walk Ladybug. Oliver walked over to her, and kissed her cheek. "You were gone a long time. I was beginning to worry."

"I was out walking with some kind of horse/wolf hybrid, you didn't need to," said Felicity casually. "And we were gone so long because Ladybug was hunting squirrels."

Ladybug had finished his drink, and immediately made his way over to sit beside Bunny. "Hello, beautiful boy," cooed Bunny, rubbing his ears. "Did you give those squirrels what for?"

"He tried," laughed Felicity. "But I don't think they were in any real danger." She dropped her voice and held up a hand to hide her mouth behind, so Ladybug couldn't see her lips move. "Don't tell Ladybug, but I think they were kind of laughing at him."

"Yeah, street squirrels are mean like that," agreed Roy, patting the dog's shaggy head. Ladybug immediately turned his head, and buried his nose in Roy's crotch. Roy rolled his eyes. "That wasn't an invitation." He pushed on Ladybug. "Get out of there." Roy looked at Bunny in annoyance. "You've really got to train him to stop doing that."

"I don't want to quell his inquisitive spirit," protested Bunny.

"Can we all focus?" asked Oliver shortly. "We need to do a briefing on the Bunny situation, and then we still have to patrol." Oliver was still a little put out that he wasn't going to be fitting in a date with Felicity tonight. They were still on ten dates, only halfway through their quota or two weeks to go. Both seemed like a long time to Oliver.

"I was just waiting for everyone to arrive," said Felicity. She walked over, and took her seat at the computer. "Okay, I've done some research on Ross Ross." Her fingers flew over the keypad, bringing up a picture of the man in question. "Ross Ross, brother of the recently departed Albert Ross—"

"Which we all agree wasn't my fault," piped up Roy. Everyone look at him. "Well, it wasn't," he said hotly. "Albert Ross was killed by—"

"Chickens," everyone chorused.

"We know, Roy," said Felicity.

"Well, he was," said Roy defensively. "None of this is my fault."

"What's important, kitten, is that Ross Ross thinks it's my fault," pointed out Bunny. "Hence he's out looking for Bunny with his enormous gun." He sighed. "You'd think it'd be a lot more fun to say that sentence, but it just isn't."

"Like Elmer Fudd," said Roy knowingly.

Everyone looked at him again.

"You know, Elmer Fudd is always hunting rabbits," said Roy unevenly. "Ross is trying to Elmer Fudd Bunny."

"Oh my but that sounds like it would have been a lot of fun," said Bunny wistfully.

"Don't make verbs out of Disney characters," said Oliver shortly.

"Warner Brothers," Diggle corrected him idly. "Elmer Fudd is a creation of Warner Brothers, not Disney."

"Is that the point here?" asked Oliver in frustration.

"Is any of this the point?" asked Felicity, with a roll of her eyes. "Geez, you guys are harder to keep on task then Ladybug on his walks."

Oliver had to admit Felicity had a point. "Okay, circle the wagons, no one speak unless it's directly related to the situation. Felicity, tell us what you know about this Ross guy." He took a closer look at the almost gaunt looking man in the picture on the screen. The man sported a large neck tattoo of a tiger, which wrapped its way up to cover one cheek and up into his bald head. At least he was going to stand out in a crowd.

"American Airlines has him landing in Starling this afternoon, coming from Iowa," said Felicity. She tapped away on her keyboard to show a camera feed from the airport of Ross collecting his luggage. There were some decidedly odd shaped pieces of luggage that Oliver immediately recognized as gun cases, and some very high powered ones by the size of them.

"The big guy with him, his name is Gutz."

"Gus?" queried Roy.

"No, Gutz, as in blood and guts, which is apparently his nickname."

"Awesome," said Roy. "So, I'm guessing he's the warm and fuzzy one of the two."

Felicity brought up a picture of the man in question. Walter Gutz was a big man, thick neck, squinting eyes, and a very marked comb over. "He's got a criminal record as long as my arm, starting in Johannesburg, his home town, but definitely not stopping there."

"I tell you what is criminal, it's that hairdo," said Bunny. He gave a little shudder. "Someone should tell him that just like George Michael in the nineties, he's not fooling anyone."

"Gutz is Ross' go to guy." Felicity brought up his list of criminal history. "He's as violent and merciless as he is coif-challenged. Checking into these two history together, I keep coming across these rumors that Ross has hunted down people in the past for sport, and then Gutz—" She stopped sharply, giving Bunny a worried look. "Ah… umm… Gutz lets them go," she finished off weakly.

"Something tells me that isn't what you were going to say, Felicity," said Diggle.

"Yes it was, it totally was," she said quickly.

"Felicity, we need to know exactly what we're dealing with," said Oliver intently. "What do people say these two do?"

"Okay, these are just rumors, but I've heard it from a few different sources in my research now, which is never a good thing, and makes me think it could kind of be true, but I really, really don't want it to be true because if it's true I just—"

"You are freaking me out," interrupted Roy. "Just say what it is. It can't be any worse than not knowing."

"Apparently, for fun, Ross hunts down people, and Gutz eats them," blurted out Felicity.

"Well, I was wrong," said Roy flatly. "That is way worse than not knowing."

"Cannibals!" gasped Bunny. "And I'm on the menu." He clutched at his chest. "I don't want to be eaten."

"You're not going to be eaten," said Oliver tersely. "This is about revenge, not lunch."

"You don't know that, look at me," Bunny demanded, sweeping a hand up and down his body, "clearly I'm delicious. Of course Blood and Gutz is going to want to eat me."

"You don't think he could eat more than one person, do you?" asked Roy, looking a little freaked out. "I mean, worst case scenario, only one of us gets eaten, right?"

"That kind of attitude is _not_ what I want to hear from one of the people protecting me," said Bunny in distress.

"I'm sorry," said Roy, looking shaken. "It's just that I've got a real thing about being eaten."

"Once again, Roy," said Diggle wryly, "I think that is a pretty universal fear."

"No, but I mean it's like a real phobia for me." Roy gave Felicity an anxious look. "Do they say whether they're being eaten dead or alive?"

"Umm… well, I did read… umm—"

"Felicity," groaned Roy.

"You know how you thought you wanted me to finish my sentence last time?"

"Yes."

"And you were wrong. Well, you _really_ don't want me to finish that sentence."

"I _cannot_ be eaten alive, not by alligators, not by comb-over guy," said Roy, his voice rising with stress. He waved his hands about. "That is a deal breaker for me!"

"Nobody is being eaten, alive or otherwise," said Oliver sharply. He looked at Roy. "I'm sorry, but when did alligators become part of the scenario?"

"PTSD flashback," said Roy shortly.

Diggle rolled his eyes. "Those alligators were in your head."

"We don't know that. Just because I didn't come across any, doesn't mean they weren't there," said Roy hotly.

"I have no idea what you two are talking about, and frankly, don't care," said Oliver determinedly. "This piece of intel changes nothing. The plan is to neutralize Ross and now Gutz. We'll lock them down from the jump, which makes it a moot point about their dietary habits. Felicity, do we know where these two are now?"

"I followed them with the traffic cameras, but then they just kind of disappeared off the grid." More frantic finger taping on the keyboard. "However, I have three known associates for Ross and Gutz in Starling City. If they've gone to ground, it's most likely to be with one of them."

"So, we find Ross and Gutz before they find us," said Diggle. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Which means we have to start working on figuring out which one of these known associates is harboring them."

Felicity leaned in towards the screen, reading the information she'd gathered. "Contestant number one is a dentist by the name of Geoffrey Dahmer…"

"The serial killer?" squawked Roy in disbelief.

"No, of course not," said Felicity in exasperation. "That was Jeffery with a J, this is Geoffrey with a G. Besides the J Jeffery was killed in prison. This is no relation."

Roy shook his head. "Who the hell would go to a dentist by the name of Geoffrey Dahmer, regardless of how you spell it?"

"Not the point," said Oliver determinedly. "Who else is on the list, Felicity?"

"The next one is a partner in the law firm, Cox, Cox and Weiner."

"Oh come on!" exclaimed Roy. "Seriously?"

Everyone looked at Bunny, waiting on some kind of comment from him. He waved them off, biting his bottom lip. "Bunny can't double entendre anything when he's worried about being eaten," he said fretfully. Bunny paused, and looked thoughtful. "Although I suspect I just did anyway with that last sentence regardless."

"His name is Ephraim Cox, and apparently he and Ross used to go big game hunting all over the world together," said Felicity. "And last, but not least is Ted, the taxidermist."

"Remind me," said Roy, "what's that again?"

"A person who stuffs dead animals," replied Felicity.

Roy screwed up his face. "How can that even be a thing?"

"Ask every museum of natural history in the world," said Diggle.

"Yeah, but it's still not right," protested Roy. "That's no way to make a living. Sticking your hand into dead things."

Felicity swung around, and looked up at the four men. "I've got intel on each one of them. So, we just work through the list, while Bunny stays here, yes?"

"Roy and I will handle this," said Diggle firmly. "One of us will stay with Bunny, the other will recon."

"I can help," said Oliver.

Bunny's face lit up. "Oh, monkey, that's so sweet of you."

"The faster we find these guys, the faster Bunny is out of here."

Bunny pursed his lips. "Well, that's a little less sweet, but I'm still putting it in the 'I'm growing on you' column."

"You're not," said Oliver shortly.

"I think I am," said Bunny confidently. "I'm like a wonderfully aged brandy… you've got to hold me in your mouth for a little while to truly appreciate me." He fluttered his eyelashes at Oliver. "Don't you think?"

"Don't answer that," said Roy in a loud whisper, behind his hand. "It's a trap."

Oliver sighed heavily, shoulders sagging. They couldn't fix this Ross Ross problem quickly enough for him. He just wanted his quiet, place of serious business lair back, rather than feeling like he was in the backroom of some kind of 70's wife swapping party.

_Was that really too much to ask? _


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N****: Good news, everybody! I survived my first week back at work… well, technically I'm still on that first week because I'm working the weekend, but you know what I mean. And in unrelated, but similarly wonderful news, there is a terrible funk coming from my side garden. And why is that good news I hear my ducklings ask in one voice? Well, because my fingers are crossed that said funk is caused by decaying rat corpse/s. I haven't seen D'Artagnan all week, which he's done before, but this time I'm hopeful he's shuffled off this mortal coil… or at least moved on to some other poor unfortunate's house. I'm not proud to admit this, but I don't care which, just as long as he's not in my house! **

**And in yet more good news – yes, my cup overflowth today! – I suppose most of you know about the release of the deleted Olicity kiss from 2x23. That'll teach Marc Guggenheim to dare a fan base to make something tweet trend. Lol Olicity lovers are ravenous beasts when it comes to getting their Olicity honey. ;) Jen (jbuffyangel) does yet another awesome meta comparing the kisses of 2x23 and 3x1 – truly, it's a work of art, check it out and you'll feel like you were a part of both Olicity kisses, trust me. :D **

**Okay, that's it, I'm all out of good news. Your turn. *listens politely***

**Alright, back to me now. **

**Just remembered something about the last chapter. You know the dentist with the serial killer name? Well, I based that on the fact that in my town, we have a dentist called Steven King… yeah, it'd make you think twice about going to him, wouldn't it? Also, Cox, Cox and Weiner – that's a real law firm (don't sue me). Ted the taxidermist is all mine though. Also, I want to just thank one of my guest readers for pointing out that the MIT went to has a pre-requisite for all their students to know how to swim because they're near a river. That's fascinating to me. Man, I'm glad it wasn't a pre-req for my Uni, cause I'm not even an aggressive floater, I'm more of a tragic bobber… with occasional bouts of flailing. Of course, this piece of information creates problems for my 'Felicity can't swim' reality I've created… but never fear, it's given me an idea for something else to have fun with. See, that's why I like the back and forth I have going on with my ducklings – you give me ideas for my stories. It's a win/win situation. ;) **

**Now, about this story…**

**This chapter… well, it's one of those ones that I don't really love. I mean, I don't hate it, but yeah, it doesn't thrill me. I know, I know, I shouldn't say that to the people who are about to read the chapter but if you don't know by now that I have a tendency towards oversharing, then you may have some kind of comprehension issue. Just sayin'. I will say this though when it comes to some broad thoughts about the fic, I've done a lot of chapters of fluff and I must admit, I'm looking forward to getting into some meatier stuff… and once I've written a few angst filled chapters I'll be looking for the fluff again. I'm such a balance freak, too much of one thing always ends up not being very satisfying to me… unless that one thing is chips… obviously. **

**But, my potato fetish aside, here's the chapter, guys… have at it. :D **

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"And that's a wrap people," said Felicity into her coms. "Six more bad guys off the street. A good night's work. See you all back at the lair." She pulled the coms device from her ear, and placed it on the table. It always felt good to call them all home, knowing they were coming back to her in one piece.

"You should call it a cave," noted Bunny conversationally, as he strolled out from the back room, drying his hair with a towel. He was wearing a black silk robe with grey silk pajamas underneath. Bunny came to stand beside her, and smiled. "It's so cozy in here. You should definitely call it a cave… the Arrow cave."

Felicity smiled, and swung around on her seat to look up at the other man. "I'll bring it up at the next staff meeting."

"Of course, the place could use a little color," mused Bunny, looking around himself. "There are a lot of masculine overtones here." He winked at Felicity. "Not that I usually mind that kind of thing, you understand."

"Goes without saying," said Felicity in amusement.

"But still, a touch of color here and there can really bring a place to life." Bunny looked around himself. "What François and I couldn't do with this place."

"Who's François?"

"My little man who does my interior designing for my holiday homes."

"He's French?"

"No, Brazilian."

"Oh." Felicity looked around the place as well. "I think Oliver likes things as they are."

"Does he indeed?"

Felicity looked back at Bunny who was now looking at her with great interest. She frowned a little. "What?"

"It just seems to me that monkey would like things to change a little bit," said Bunny knowingly.

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, he seems a little on edge."

"That's just Oliver."

"On edge about you."

"The photo thing is still bugging him." Felicity pulled a face. "I'm not exactly over it quite yet either." She felt her cheeks heat. It was such an embarrassing photograph. Apart from the fact her physical assets were on display, the expression on her face had been pretty wanton. Not a total surprise considering what she'd been thinking in that moment.

"Well, yes, but it's more than that."

Felicity dragged her thoughts back from that moment to give Bunny a confused look. "More how?"

"He's on edge about you."

Felicity sat up straighter in her chair. "Me?"

"I think monkey feels like his hold on you is… tenuous."

Felicity blinked. "Then he's insane," she said unevenly. "Oliver has hold of me in every possible way." _And then some._

"But you're holding something back from him," prompted Bunny.

"Has Oliver said something to you about us not having sex yet?" fretted Felicity.

"Darling, he doesn't have to." Bunny gave a small smile as he pulled up a seat next to Felicity. "That man simply radiates sexual frustration."

"Oh." Felicity bit her bottom lip.

"As do you, my darling." Bunny laughed. "If you could harness the sexual tension between you two, we'd solve that pesky energy crisis the world is facing down."

"Is-is he mad at me?"

"Oh poppet, perish the thought," said Bunny quickly. "That's just crazy talk. First of all, I think there is a considerable part of monkey that enjoys your little dance, enjoys holding off the inevitable. Plus, of course he knows you're worth the wait." He smiled. "The longer you wait, the more he gets to show you it's not all about sex for him, which, with the reputation which precedes my naughty little monkey, is a penance he's more than earned in my not so humble opinion. That is not the issue."

"Then what is the issue?" Felicity was the one on edge now.

"You're holding back something more important than sex from that boy, and it's driving him a little bit crazy. Again, monkey hasn't said anything to me, call it a romantic's intuition. All we love gurus have it." Bunny cocked his head. "Care to share, Ms. Smoak?"

"I think Oliver is waiting for me to say I love him," said Felicity quietly. "I mean, he knows I do. Pretty much from the moment we met." She moved uncomfortably in her seat. "I wasn't exactly subtle about it even though I tried to be."

"Subtlety is highly overrated, if you ask me. Especially in the matters of the heart. It's balls out or nothing at all, that's my motto."

Felicity's lips twitched at the gusto which Bunny proclaimed that last bit of information. "You must have a pretty interesting family crest if that's the case."

"Oh, I do," said Bunny with feigned seriousness. "We keep it behind a velvet curtain, and you can only see it if you're over eighteen years of age."

Felicity laughed. "You'll have to show it to me one day. Sounds like it'll be an education."

"Bunny is all about higher education," he said proudly, "but right now, he's all about finding out why you haven't let those three little words slip past those luscious lips yet."

"Oliver already knows how I feel," said Felicity unsteadily.

"But clearly he needs you to say it as well, because I'm guessing it's as obvious to him as it is to me that you're holding back with them for a reason." Bunny crossed his legs, and linked his fingers over his knee. "So, why the hesitation, my lovely? The love doctor is in, let me smooth the path to true love with my hoe of romance."

"Do hoes flatten paths?"

"I have no idea, but it's the only garden tool I know outside of a shovel, and a shovel of romance sounds vaguely threatening."

"It kinda does," Felicity agreed, and then sighed heavily. "Okay, it's a little hard to explain…"

"Do your best, poppet, I'll fill in the blanks with my vast repository of knowledge on the subject of love."

"I was basically raised by my mom." Felicity rubbed her arm distractedly. "She did her best, it wasn't easy. My dad… well, he just left one day, I don't really know why." Felicity looked away, staring blindly at the far wall. "My mom… it was hard for her… she was just, I don't know… broken afterwards." She looked back at Bunny. "It was like she was in all these little pieces, and she never quite figured out how to put them back together again. Don't get me wrong," said Felicity hastily, "my mom worked really hard to provide for us both, and she loved me a lot, a lot lot."

"That's a lot of lots." Bunny gave her a warm smile. "And completely understandable because you are absolutely impossible not to love, my poppet."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't always that lovable around my mom," said Felicity in regret. "She was just all over the place, particularly when it came to men. I think she was looking for that one to make the pain from losing my father go away. Turns out, he doesn't exist." She fiddled with her thumbnail. "But my mom, she keeps on trying."

"And that's your issue, you don't want to say I love you to monkey because you think he'll abandon you one day?"

Felicity gave a sad little smile. "Not willingly," she said huskily, "but Oliver and this…" Felicity waved her hand around the round, "this isn't a choice for him, this is who he is. Oliver Queen is the Arrow and the Arrow is Oliver. You can't separate the two, and the Arrow is always going to have to put the mission, the welfare of others before his own needs… and that includes me." She saw Bunny frown. "I know that sounds awful, and I don't mean it that way. Oliver's a hero… heroes don't get to be selfish, they have to be selfless, that's part of the deal. I know he'll do everything in his power to protect me, but when all is said and done, I don't get to ask him not to go and put his life in danger, because that's not who he is. Oliver can't give me everything I want." A soft smile touched her lips. "But he gives me everything I need. Oliver is amazing. His capacity for forgiveness and loyalty is pretty much boundless. He's a good man, Bunny, at his very core, still… despite all the horrible, soul destroying things that have happened to him, Oliver is still a good man. I find that remarkable… I find him remarkable."

Bunny scratched his cheek. "Poppet, I'm still not quite seeing the issue here. If you've reconciled yourself to the fact that the crusade will always come first for monkey—"

"I have, it isn't always easy, but I have."

"And the fact that one day you might lose him to the cause—"

"I don't think anyone can really prepare for that," said Felicity somberly, "but I know it's part of the deal of loving anyone, superhero or not. I'm already in love with Oliver, there is no way of protecting myself from-from that." She wavered on the last little bit, not quite able to say the words. Oliver dying would destroy her, but that was a fact whether she said those three little words aloud or not.

"Then the hesitation is coming from…?"

Felicity drew in a deep breath. "My father was the love of my mother's life. She told me that once, when I asked about him. That was one of the rare times she talked about him. She hardly ever did, once he was gone. She wasn't being withholding." Feicity gave a self-deprecating smile. "My mother is kinda the opposite when it comes to that. Most of the time you have to hold her back."

"That's not a terrible trait, darling," said Bunny indulgently. "I'm quite a fan of over the top myself."

"You and my mom would get on like a house on fire," said Felicity dryly.

Bunny chuckled. "Of that I have no doubt."

Felicity's expression became more drawn. "I think, when it came to my dad, it was just too painful for her to talk about him. When my mom loves, she's all in, no holding back, and that was how she loved him." She fiddled with her nail again. "And then he left. I'm scared if I open the floodgates with Oliver, and say those words out loud, then I'm just going to swamp him in all that crazy Smoak love. What if it was that kind of love which drove my father away? Oliver thinks he wants all of my love, but I thought I wanted the 'Death by Ice Cream' sundae at this diner when I was nine. It had all twenty-one flavors of ice cream in it, whipped cream, a pint of chocolate fudge sauce, a bag of marshmallows, crushed nuts... it was almost bigger than I was. I was nearly had to be hospitalized with the severe brain freeze I gave myself, and that was before the vomiting started. I think there was more that came out of me of that sundae than went in."

"Well, I guess it was true to label then," said Bunny in amusement.

Felicity grabbed his arm. "But what if it's like that for Oliver and me? I say I love you, and that's it, he gets full-strength Felicity in love. We Smoaks don't love like other people, we're out of control."

"But you already love Oliver, as you said, the words don't change anything."

"The words change the fact that I've given myself permission to being all in with him, and Oliver says he wants that, but he can't possible know what that's going to be like," said Felicity fretfully. "To be honest, I don't even know what it's going to be like, but I suspect it'll be a lot like that movie where the rogue wave engulfs the Poseidon. He won't see it coming, and suddenly he'll be like Kurt Russell upside down, trying to climb out the propeller bay."

"I haven't seen that movie," said Bunny idly.

"You'd love it – it has Kurt Russell and Josh Lucas soaking wet 80% of the movie."

Bunny grinned. "That does sound like something I'd enjoy. We'll have to have a girl's night and watch it together."

"Sounds good."

"But, first, let me just put your fears to rest." Bunny put his hand over Felicity's which was still on his arm. "You don't have to worry about your love overwhelming monkey. Have you seen how broad those shoulders of his are? They can absolutely shoulder more than a little Smoak loving… and to be honest, that man needs more than a little love. You meet him, and the first thing you see is all that pain he carries like a suit of armor." Bunny pursed his lips. "Well, to be brutally honest, the first thing I saw was his heaving, sweaty torso pulling itself up and down that ladder thingy… everything went blank there for a moment when that happened."

"It's pretty distracting, isn't it?" agreed Felicity readily.

"Darling, Godzilla rampaging through downtown Tokyo is distracting. Oliver Queen dangling from a bar, every muscle on his body straining and glistening like…" Bunny gave a little shudder. "I'll stop there, but I think you know where I was going with that."

"It's a well-worn track," said Felicity, still loving watching Oliver do the salmon ladder to this day. It just never got old. "In fact I've got a booth on that track. Sell bottled water and t-shirts that read 'Your Work Out is my Warm up.'"

"I'll take one of those t-shirts in every size you've got," said Bunny cheekily. "But that man, physique of a Greek God or not, is hurting, and in need of large doses of love. It's a match made in heaven. Sweetie, monkey is more than ready for your rogue wave, you're not going to capsize him."

It made Felicity feel better to hear Bunny say those words to her. She really hoped they were true, but there were still some lingering doubts. She pulled an unhappy face. "I told you it didn't really make sense."

"Darling, you feel what you feel, there is no right or wrong," said Bunny philosophically. "One day you'll just look at that man of yours, and know it's the right time to say those words he's waiting for. You can't rush these things."

Felicity sat back in her chair and sighed. "As long as Oliver doesn't get sick of waiting around."

"Poppet, that boy is stuck on you like pretty on George Clooney. Trust your Aunty Bunny, he's not going anywhere, no matter how long it takes."

Felicity smiled, really appreciating Bunny's optimism about everything. She just hoped he was right.

#

The man pulled out his cell phone as he walked out of the Starling City bus depot, suitcase in hand. He flicked through the various screens until he found the address of a hotel within walking distance from the terminal. Getting his bearings, the man briskly walked the darkened six blocks until he was at the Barrett Hotel. Walking inside, there was a red-headed woman who looked to be in her early twenties behind the reception desk, and he made a beeline for her. "Hi there. I rang earlier about booking a room. I spoke with a Claire. I'm Felix Finlay."

"That was me," she confirmed. "And I have your booking right here, Mr. Finlay." She tapped away at the computer screen in front of her. "I'll just need to see some proof of ID."

Felix reached for his wallet, and handed her his ID, looking around himself as Claire put his details into the computer. The hotel wasn't exactly in its first flush of youth. The wallpaper was tired and outdated, the carpet well-worn, but none of that mattered to him. The place was affordable, and affordable was something he needed right then. Claire handed back his ID, and Felix pocketed it. "Is there a bus line around here which can get me into the city easily?"

"Whereabouts in the city are you looking to go to?"

"Queen Consolidated."

"That's right in the heart of the city. Up a block there is a bus stop. It pretty much runs every half hour into the city during the day. At night it's every hour. You won't have any trouble getting in."

He smiled. "Thank you, Claire, I appreciate your help."

The woman smiled back at him. "Are you in town for long?"

Felix blinked, pushing back his dark fringe from his face and readjusted the brown leather satchel over his shoulder. "I'm not sure," he said slowly. "It kind of depends on a few things."

"Well, I hope you have a lovely stay with us," said Claire, brightly. "Starling City has a lot of fun things to do. If you need any suggestions, just ask."

"I'll do that, thanks, Claire."

Felix collected his suitcase and key, and walked over to the elevator. He stepped inside, and pressed the button for the fourth floor. The old contraption rattled and swayed a little with the effort of carrying him to his floor, but they made it, despite the groans of complaint from the ancient mechanisms. Felix stepped out onto the stained carpet, and hastily made his way to his room. Once there he laid his suitcase on the bed, and then opened it. He took out the newspaper he'd brought from Gotham City, sitting on the bed. He turned to the entertainment section. Felix studied the picture carefully, probably for the fiftieth time. "They spelt your name wrong," he murmured, finger absently brushing the blonde's arm. "You hate that… almost as much as you hate obvious puns." Felix looked over to his suitcase to the large white envelope resting there, and pursed his lips, thinking how that wasn't the only thing one Felicity Meghan Smoak was going to hate. The next few days were going to be more than a little interesting, that was for sure.

**A/N****: So, mystery man has a name now. We'll see more of Felix as this story unfolds. I have more than a few plans for our Mr. Finlay. ;) **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N****: Hi guys, finally got around to organizing this next chapter for posting. **

**I know this is the part where I usually regale you with whatever is going on in my head, but thanks to the all-encompassing suck of work currently, there is not a lot left over to make even polite conversation with. Hank is currently lying in his bed, listlessly batting at a ball, and occasionally scratching his butt. Fernando Del Vecchio is out the back, working on his tan. Llamas don't tan well as a rule and imaginary ones are even worse at it. I tried to tell him, but imaginary llamas can be stubborn like that. So yeah, not much left in the old fun bag to hand out. Hopefully work will settle down soon (I'm in the process of recruiting for 5 different positions at the lab and they're all at different stages, it's driving me mental) and I'll get back into the swing of things a bit more. **

**On the note of work, the first week of Feb, I have to go away for work, travel down south for a week. I'm doing some training for a new lab supervisor to teach her our much involved Workplace Health and Safety processes. Our WHS stuff is a lot like taking care of Mr. Burns. It's not a big job, it's 3490 small jobs. Despite what my a/n's might infer, I'm a very organized person who can create order in chaos, (oh the irony, compared to my private life) so creating systems and training is right up my alley. Anyways, way too long of a story to tell you that I won't be posting during that week as I won't be taking my lap top. Soz. **

**But that's a couple of weeks away, I'll mention it again before I go. I see people are making some guesses about Felix Finlay and who/what he may be. I'm not going to lie, it's going to take a little while to answer those questions. You know me, never be succinct if you can blow 20 odd chapters waffling around the point. Hopefully I will clear up one misunderstanding about him sooner rather than later though. In the meantime, you should probably read this chapter and see what you make of it. **

**Toodles. :D **

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Felicity was still pondering Bunny's words when the others returned. Roy promptly changed his clothes, and headed out again, saying he had a hot date with Thea. Diggle was on Bunny duty, and Felicity knew she should really get home to bed, but didn't really want to go just yet.

"Ladybug needs a last walk for the night," said Bunny.

"I'll do it," volunteered Felicity readily.

"_We'll_ do it," said Oliver firmly. "It's nearly eleven o'clock at night. That's just asking for trouble being out on the street at that time of night if you're a woman."

Felicity started to protest, even though she really wanted Oliver to come. She just didn't want to think she was completely helpless. "Ladybug—"

"I don't care if Ladybug was a dragon, it's not enough protection," said Oliver determinedly. "Give me a minute to get out of my suit, and we'll go together."

"Such a gentleman," said Bunny approvingly.

Felicity smiled. "He has his moments." Ten minutes later she and Oliver were making their way out of the side entrance to the Foundry, Ladybug in tow. Felicity looked up at the sky as Oliver secured Ladybug's lead. "Looks like we might get rain later on tonight."

"Maybe," said Oliver, straightening up. He smiled at her, looking the most relaxed he had all night. "Alone at last." Oliver bent his head to kiss her, but Ladybug suddenly took off, jerking him sideways.

Felicity was forced to stifle a laugh as Oliver only just managed to keep himself upright with Ladybug's unexpected pulling. "He's on the hunt for squirrels," she informed him. The large dog was indeed very intent on sniffing at the sidewalk, head down, tail up and waving about madly.

Oliver was holding his ground, even with Ladybug straining against the lead. "I should include dog resistance training in my workout," he grunted.

"You can start a new craze," said Felicity in amusement.

Ladybug started to make choking noises as he refused to stop pulling on the lead. The hacking noises rose above the sound of the club music from inside the building. Oliver drew himself up level with Ladybug, and made him sit. "Okay, fella, this is how it's going to go. We're going on a walk, but I'm setting the pace, not you. Got it?"

Ladybug shoved his shaggy head in Oliver's crotch.

Felicity put a hand to her mouth, to stop herself from laughing again. "I think that's how Ladybug agrees with you."

"That's how Ladybug does a lot of things," said Oliver dryly. He pushed Ladybug's nose out of his crotch. "Just walk, okay? No hunting squirrels, I'm trying to have some alone time with my girl. It's bad enough I've got your boss back in my lair, cramping my style. I don't need you compounding the problem out here on the street."

Felicity was still smiling. "You do realize you're talking to a dog, right?"

Oliver straightened up, and gave her a sheepish look. "I'm desperate, okay? Desperate men do crazy things."

"I'll have to remember that," said Felicity impishly.

"I may have made a tactical mistake in our relationship by admitting that to you," said Oliver laughingly.

"We're trial dating, not going to war," said Felicity in amusement. "You don't need tactics."

"It's how I think, strategies, end games, tactical deployment of assets."

"Wow, I can see how you got that playboy reputation," said Felicity teasingly. "You're really big on the sweet talk."

Oliver drew close to her, his blue gaze warming as he looked down at her. "I love you, Felicity Smoak." That crooked smile she loved so much suddenly on his lips. "Is that sweet enough for you?"

Felicity felt the bottom drop out of her stomach, her heart beating out a crazed tattoo. Would she ever not have that reaction to hearing Oliver say those words to her? Felicity hoped she had many years to find out. He was looking at her so earnestly, and Felicity knew Oliver was hoping she'd say those words back to them. As easily as they seemed to roll off of Oliver's tongue these days, she knew those same words were conspicuous in their absence on her behalf. And for the reasons she'd given Bunny, they were going to stay that way, as hard as it was for her. Instead, Felicity tried to inject her response with as much love as she could, while avoiding saying the actual words. "More than sweet enough," she said sincerely. Felicity saw the flash of disappointment in Oliver's eyes when she didn't return the words he was waiting to hear, and she tried to soften the blow with a gentle kiss. Felicity went up on her tip toes, and pressed her lips against Oliver's. His hand immediately went around her waist, holding her against him, and returned her kiss. Felicity lifted her hand, stroking the back of Oliver's head as his lips moved back and forth across hers. She savored the taste of him on her lips, forgetting where they were for a minute, until they were rudely reminded.

"Get a room, you two!" It was followed by a burst of combined male laughter.

Felicity felt Oliver tense against her as he moved to put his back to the passing group of men heading down the street towards Verdant, shielding Felicity from their prying eyes. But he didn't immediately let her go in the process.

"Why is there always something or someone interrupting us?" he groaned complainingly, lips brushing hers as he spoke, eyes still closed from their kisses.

"I guess that's what happen when you make out in a street corner on the way to a busy club," said Felicity huskily.

Oliver reluctantly opened his eyes. "I guess," he sighed.

Felicity understood Oliver's frustration. She felt the same way. No matter how much time she spent with Oliver, it always felt like not enough. Ladybug gave a little whiffle of a bark, impatient at all of this inertia. "I think that's our cue," said Felicity.

Oliver sent Ladybug a sideways look. "Seriously, man, I'm doing you a solid by taking you for a walk. You can't give me two minutes here?"

"Talking to the dog again."

Oliver looked back at her. "You talk to him."

"But I'm not the one pretending I don't like him," said Felicity teasingly.

"I didn't say I didn't like Ladybug," he protested, starting to walk, Ladybug immediately leading the way. "Just that I'm not thrilled with the baggage he comes with invading my personal space."

"You need to unclench a little when it comes to letting people into your personal space." Felicity took his hand. "Sometimes good things happen when you let people in."

Oliver immediately squeezed her hand. "Sometimes amazingly wonderful things happen when you let the right people in," he agreed readily, looking down at her adoringly. "I'm just not convinced Bunny is one of those people."

Felicity reached over with her other hand, and wrapped it around Oliver's arm, snuggling into his side as they walked hand in hand up the street. "He will." She rested her head against his arm. "I've finished the repairs to your suit, and made a few tweaks."

"This tweaking, it wasn't done with Roy in the suit at the time, was it?" asked Oliver a little moodily.

"No, I tweaked alone."

"You know you don't have to. I'm always willing to be on hand for any… tweaking."

Felicity lifted her head to look up at him to find Oliver looking back down at her with a mischievous smile. "Oh, I think I know where you stand on the tweaking front," she teased him right back.

"Oh good, I was worried I was being too subtle."

"Subtlety is overrated," murmured Felicity, thinking back to her conversation with Bunny and then smiled. "I think the suit is alright to do some preliminary testing in the field. Are you up to try?"

"Of course," said Oliver without hesitation.

"Good," said Felicity in relief. "I'm going to feel a whole lot better with you putting yourself in so much danger every night if you're in that suit."

"You don't need to worry about me. I can handle myself."

"Oh right, because not worrying about you is that easy," said Felicity wryly. "My bad, I'll get right on it."

Ladybug zigzagged in front of them, still intent on picking up squirrel trail. Oliver tightened his grip on the lead. "I know how to keep myself safe, Felicity. I can't prevent the danger from coming, but I know how to handle it when it does."

"Like elbowing it in the face, you mean?"

Oliver abruptly stopped walking and looked down at her with some trepidation. "What are we talking about here?"

Felicity arched an eyebrow at him. "We're talking about your need to elbow some guy in the face just because he grazed my boobs in an elevator."

"You knew what he was doing?" asked Oliver in surprise.

"My boobs are attached to me. It's pretty hard not to notice someone touching them."

Oliver hesitated. "You didn't react."

Her look was pointed. "You pretty much reacted enough for both of us. I didn't want to add any fuel to that particular fire."

Oliver's jaw hardened. "What was I meant to do? Just ignore the guy feeling up my girlfriend right in front of me?"

"You don't need to worry about me. I can handle myself." Felicity mimicked Oliver's own words back to him.

"That's not fair," he said in frustration. "It's a totally different situation."

"I just find it mildly ironic that you keep telling me not to worry about you when you clearly can't do the same thing when it comes to me."

"Because it's not the same thing," said Oliver in agitation. "I've trained for a long time to be able to handle myself on the street."

"This may be hard for you to believe, Oliver, but today isn't the first time men have looked at me." Felicity crocked her head. "Granted I don't get the attention of your average supermodel, but I have, in the past, had to deal with men being inappropriate with me, and you know what… I handled it. I don't really need you breaking guy's noses and hands and spilling coffee on their laps in some misguided attempt to protect my virtue."

Oliver looked a little guilty. "You caught all that, did you?"

"I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt with the Taylor thing being an accident, but you're not a clumsy man, Oliver Queen. So, when the body count started to rack up throughout the day, I pretty much put two and two together."

"I'm not sorry," said Oliver defiantly. "The way they were looking at you—"

"Wasn't fun, but it wasn't a crime punishable by disfigurement," said Felicity evenly. "You have to calm down with this overprotectiveness shtick. It's too much."

"I have trouble modulating my responses when it comes to you," admitted Oliver reluctantly. "I can't stand that I put you in this position where you're some kind of target for these jerks."

"You didn't put me in any kind of position. I was there that night at the aquarium, kissing you because I wanted to be doing both things. I made that choice, and I'll live with the consequences."

"The consequences being that you're now having to fend off advances from every douchebag in the city," ground out Oliver unhappily.

Felicity stepped closer, and put her arms around his waist. "The consequences being that I got to spend a magical evening with a man who completely and utterly swept me off my feet," she said huskily. "I have no regrets about that night, Oliver, and I don't want you to have any either."

"No regrets?" asked Oliver skeptically. "What about your mother?"

Felicity couldn't help but stiffen a little in his arms. Her voice went up a couple of tones. "I'm fine with my mom knowing about us."

"Is that your fine voice?"

"Yes."

"Interesting. Your fine voice is exactly the same as your stressed voice."

"I know," said Felicity, doggedly keeping eye contact with him. "Weird, huh?"

"Felicity," sighed Oliver.

"I'm dealing with the mom thing," said Felicity determinedly.

"And I'm dealing with the men ogling you thing," responded Oliver quickly. He grimaced as Felicity just stared him down. "Admittedly badly, but it's my process."

"Could your process involve a little less physical contact?" she pleaded with him.

"I'm allowed to be upset when men get into your personal space, and try to touch you," said an aggrieved Oliver. "Particularly if I'm the reason it's happening."

"Excuse me," said Felicity hotly. "You're not the reason, these puppies are." She waved her hands at her breast. "Not everything is about you, Oliver. I can turn heads without any help from you."

"I know," groaned Oliver, "and that's kind of my problem."

"If I can put up with women mailing you their underwear on a semi-daily basis, then you can deal with the occasional look and lewd comment that comes my way," said Felicity firmly.

Oliver grimaced. "You put up with a lot being with me, don't you?"

Felicity rolled her eyes. "Soo much." She smiled then. "But it's worth it." Felicity balled up the material at the front of Oliver's shirt to pull his head down towards her before kissing him. Oliver immediately cupped her face with both hands, returning her kiss eagerly.

"God, but you drive me crazy," Oliver groaned into their kiss. He broke the kiss, and rested his forehead against hers, drawing in a ragged breath. "I was thinking—"

"This isn't a date, Oliver," said Felicity unevenly, still a little breathless from that kiss.

Oliver gave her a crooked smile. "I feel like there is some kind of a fraction of a date, what with the physical contact and all."

"In that case you and Ladybug are the one on the date," said Felicity cheekily. "He's gotten to third base with you."

"Against my will," grumbled Oliver.

"Still counts."

"But that wasn't what I was going to say, although I'd still like to make a pitch for this at least being a fraction date, maybe a half?"

"It's not a date. We're walking a dog."

"A quarter?"

"I thought this wasn't about tonight being a date?"

"It isn't," said Oliver quickly. "I was just thinking that I really hate leaving you at the end of the night."

"I know, I hate it too."

"Then let's do something about it," said Oliver eagerly. "Why don't I stay at your house tonight?"

Felicity's stomach turned over with nervous butterflies at the suggestion. "Oliver, I thought was agreed we were going to wait to until we, you know, take this thing to the next level."

"And I'm fine with that," said Oliver hastily. "I was just thinking we could spend the night together." He took her hands in his, giving her a pleading look. "You know, just sleeping, in the same bed."

"I don't think that's a very realistic goal," said Felicity slowly. It was pretty hard to imagine Oliver in her bed without immediately wanting to ravage him. She couldn't help but blush at the thought.

"Felicity, I wake up every morning, and I just miss you in my bed," said Oliver raggedly. "I miss not being about to roll over and see you right there beside me."

"I've never been in your bed," she whispered, wide-eyed.

"I still miss you," said Oliver, searching her face carefully. "It's where you belong, and when you're not there, everything just feels wrong." He moved a little closer, an intent expression on his face. "I just keep thinking about when we were at the cabin, how it felt to be sharing that bed. In between the mania and the nightmares, I remember what it was like to have you lying beside me, talking to me, listening to your voice tell me about mermaids and slapping ducks—"

"I really wish you'd forget about the duck thing," said Felicity unhappily. "I don't know what possessed me to tell you that story."

"I love that story," said Oliver emphatically, "and you told me about it because it's an intimate thing, sharing a bed, it breaks down barriers and I want that for us." He squeezed her hands. "I promise you, I'll behave myself. I just want to wake up in the morning to find you beside me."

Oliver might be confident he could behave himself, but Felicity wasn't so sure she was up to that particular challenge. "Can-can I think about it?"

He smiled. "Of course." Oliver turned his head and looked down. "Come on, Ladybug, put in a good word for—" He stopped abruptly and looked around. "Where is he?"

"Oh no," gasped Felicity, looking at the lead in Oliver's hand which was now without a dog at the end of it. Obviously Ladybug had gotten bored with waiting around for them to resume their walking and slipped his lead. "We've lost Ladybug!"

"We haven't lost a hundred and seventy pound dog," said Oliver firmly. "That's just not possible. He's around here somewhere." He raised his voice. "Ladybug!" Oliver grimaced. "Okay, that name doesn't sound great when you shout it out loud."

Felicity didn't care. "Ladybug! Ladybug! Here, boy!" She turned around on the spot, looking for the large, shaggy dog. "Oh my God, Bunny is going to be devastated. We can't go back without him, Oliver!"

"We're not going back without him. We'll find him. Ladybug!" There was an answering bark in the distance. "You see, he's not far away. That sounded like it came from across the street, in that little park." Oliver took her hand, and started to cross the street. "No problem."

"Thank goodness," said Felicity in relief. "I don't think Bunny would cope if anything happened to Ladybug." They were across the street in the small park now. Felicity squinted out into the gloom. "I can't see him. Ladybug, here, boy!" There was another bark, very close to them. Felicity blinked, and then looked at Oliver. Simultaneously they both looked up. Directly above their heads was Ladybug, crouched on a branch about ten feet above their heads. "Oh my, Ladybug can climb trees," said Felicity in awe. "He's amazing."

Ladybug gave a little whiffle of unhappiness, trying to turn around, but he couldn't.

"No, he's _stuck_ up a tree," said Oliver in resignation. "He's an idiot."

"He must have chased a squirrel up there. We have to get him down."

"I'm not going up after him," said Oliver firmly. He called up to Ladybug. "You got yourself up there, you can get yourself back down. Just do everything you did to get up there in reverse."

Ladybug put out a cautious paw, but the branch bent a little under his weight. He made a whining noise, decidedly unhappy.

"He's stuck," fretted Felicity.

"I'm not going up after him," said Oliver determinedly. "That is a thing which is not happening."

Felicity looked up at Oliver, not saying a word, but eyes wide and pleading.

"Ladybug got himself into this, he can get himself out," insisted Oliver stubbornly. "I'm not doing it, he has to learn that actions have consequences." He pressed his lips together. "I'm not going up that tree, end of discussion."

Felicity bit her bottom lip, and blinked rapidly a couple of times, still staring at Oliver.

"No, not happening," said Oliver, but the conviction was ebbing from his tone. "So, don't even ask." Felicity continued to stare wordlessly up at him. Oliver's shoulders sagged. "Damn it!" He looked up at Ladybug, and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You owe me big time for this pal, and I intend to collect!"

Felicity just smiled as Oliver nimbly pulled himself up the tree after the stranded dog. A hero's work was never done.

**A/N****: See, just fluff. Next chapter I'm going to be laying down some heavy groundwork for future chapters… and for the next story if I'm being completely candid. So, pay attention, ducklings… or don't… whichever feels right to you. Most of my scenes have a point, they further the plot, but hopefully most of them don't seem that way. Therein lies the plan. See you in the next chapter. ;) **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N****: Hey guys, I'm writing this to you as I've just completed my first 2 weeks non-stop back at work. Is it just me, or did that time go crazy fast? Well, now I'm looking down the barrel of a three day weekend. How awesome is that?! I'm praying I'll get a lot of writing done, but yeah, who knows? That kind of stuff is always a crap shoot. **

**Washed my floors before work today too – yes, my life is really that exciting. Just thought I'd share because they've been bugging me all week and I haven't gotten around to it and now I have and it feels awesome. What's that, you don't care? Odd, that's what my dogs said as well when I tried to get them excited about clean floors. Hank just coughed up a hair ball on said clean floors. Not an unusual occurrence unfortunately, but the fact it wasn't his own hair in the ball of slimy hair did earn him a side eye from me. Somewhere out there, there is a naked chinchilla. But back to my floors. What is wrong with you people (and dogs and brain monkeys)? This is arguably the highlight of my week!**

**Just read that back… wow, my life is even sadder than I first realized… and I already thought it was pretty tragic.**

**Let's not dwell though, eh? We'll just repress and deal with it later. **

**So, this chapter. Some of the stuff in it might seem random, but I'm telling you, it's not. There is a reason for all of my scenes (well, almost all – the duck slapping thing was pretty random and doesn't tie back into anything… or does it?) and hopefully if I'm doing things right, you won't always realize all those reasons to some later point, or, if you're re-reading this, you'll go 'oh wait, look at that, there's the set up for the thing which happens down the line'. I personally love as a reader/viewer, being rewarded by writers for paying attention and having that moment when something happens and it catches you off guard but then realize you should have known that, because the clues were all there. I just love those kinds of stories, and as imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, that's what I attempt to do, imitate. ;) **

**Of course, now that I've made a big song and dance about these little threads being dropped along the way, I've probably ruined the whole 'catching you off guard thing'. It's like organizing a surprise party and telling the person not to get a fright when thirty people jump out of him when he walks through the front door of his house. Still a party, but the surprise factor is gone. However, now that I think about what I've got planned for the things I've got planned for the two major things I've introduced in this chapter, check that, three major things, I'm not sure most normal people will be able to guess where I'm going with all of them… particularly as there are both short range pay offs and long range ones which may or may not pay off in the next story (they do). **

**Hmm… thinking out loud now, never a good thing. I'm sure you've given up on trying to figure out all of the above by now. Good choice. Let's move onto something which will hopefully make more sense… it's hard to imagine it could make less…**

**CHAPTER NINE**

"Up a little on your left, kitten."

Roy grunted up as he went up on his tip toes, straining to hold up the end of the heavy wall hanging he was attempting to get straight on the wall. He was balanced on top of a chair which was balanced on a bench. Not exactly the most secure of structures.

"I don't care," said Bunny sharply from the safety of his floor level supervisory position. "We'll drop everything, I'm not playing here."

"You want me to drop it more?" asked Roy unevenly, arms stretched out as far as they could above his head, holding the ornate carpet against the wall.

"No, darling, not you, the Russians. I'm multitasking." Bunny had a hands free earpiece in, and was wheeling and dealing at the same time he was getting Roy to hang the wall decoration.

"Well, could you multitask me first, please?" panted Roy. "This isn't as easy as I'm making it look."

"Oh, kitten, I thought you'd never ask," said Bunny playfully. His voice hardened. "Right, that's it, deals off the table," he barked. "I'm walking. If the people your represent want to do business with me, then they can get in the back of a long queue. _Potselui mou zhopy!" _With that, Bunny tapped his earpiece, emphatically hanging up.

Roy strained his neck to look back around and down at Bunny. "What was that?"

"I just told them to kiss my ass," said Bunny blithely. "They are ridiculous negotiators, trying to take me for a fool. I am _nobody's_ fool." He cocked his head. "Maybe George Clooney's if I ever got the chance… or Robbie Coltrane's."

"Who?"

"The actor who played Hagrid."

"Seriously, him?"

"I have a thing for big old bears with Glaswegian accents," sighed Bunny happily. "It's my one vice… well, one of many vices actually. It's a long and glorious list… in fact it'd probably be shorter to list my non-vices…"

"Bunny!" grunted Roy. "Focus. Is it straight or not?"

"Up just a scooch… there, that's perfect!"

"Finally," grumbled Roy. He pulled the hammer and nail out of his back pocket and started hammering the nail through the eyelet of the hanging.

"Ohh… I do love a man who knows how to pound things into other things," cooed Bunny. "It's very titillating."

"I'm hammering a nail into a wall," said Roy flatly. "There is nothing sexy about that."

"You should see the view from where I am," said Bunny approvingly. "It's nothing but sexy."

Roy finished his task, and then turned around, jumping down from his teetering tower. "There, it's done." He stood beside Bunny, and looked up at the ornate rug full of rich green, brown and gold swirls. "I don't think Oliver's going to be real happy when he sees this."

"Nonsense, darling," said Bunny easily. "It adds a much needed splash of color to the place… and it's improved this space's feng shui no end."

"Yeah well, I'm just letting you know, Oliver's going to get his feng shui all in a knot when he sees this. That dude likes things a certain way."

Bunny patted his arm. "You just leave monkey to me. I'm good at handling prickly men. It's rather my forte."

"Just don't tell him you talked me into helping you with this," said Roy, who was frankly more than a little worried. He scowled. "I don't even know how it happened."

"I'm next to impossible to say no to. I'm like a siren, luring sailors to do my bidding."

"Didn't the sirens get the sailors to sail their ships into rocks so they'd all drown?"

"Well, if you want to look at the entirely negative side of things, certainly."

"I'm just glad I'm going to be out tonight, checking out the dentist."

Bunny looked worried. "Oh kitten, you will be careful, won't you? I don't want you getting hurt on my account."

"It'll be fine," said Roy casually. "It's just a dentist… with the name of a serial killer. It's not going to be an issue." He hesitated. "Unless Captain Cannibal and co are there." Roy grimaced. "I _really_ hope those stories about them aren't true. I do not want to get eaten alive… or dead… I just don't want to be eaten." He shook his head. "How do people even get to that point, deciding human beings might be delicious? It's just so weird and sick."

"Which is why you have to be careful, my darling." Bunny frowned. "I couldn't live with myself if you so much as got a scratch on that beautiful body of yours."

"Trust me, I'm highly motivated to keep on top of the situation," said Roy dryly. "We find these guys who are after you, neutralize them, and then you can go back to your life. Debt paid in full." Ladybug hauled himself up from his bed, and wandered over to Roy, who patted him on his shaggy head. "Isn't that right, Bugsie?" The dog promptly shoved his enormous head into Roy's crotch. Roy rolled his eyes. "And my crotch can stop getting this much attention." He pushed Ladybug's head out of his nether regions. "Okay, enough you."

"You can never get too much of a good thing," noted Bunny. "Ladybug and I are a lot alike in that department."

Roy cocked his head and looked at the other man. "You seem very chilled about this whole situation. Why aren't you freaking out more? You do have a crazy man hunting you down."

"But I'm in the safest possible place." Bunny smiled. "I know my brown bear and kitten will look after me. What do I possibly have to worry about? It's not exactly the first time someone has been looking to kill me."

"I guess you have a kind of dangerous occupation."

"Well, I meet some less than sterling members of society, certainly."

"You ever feel bad about what you do?"

Bunny arched and eyebrow. "How do you mean?"

"You sell guns to bad people and they use those guns to kill good people."

"That's a rather simplistic analysis of my professional life, my darling. I also sell guns to good people who use them to kill bad people. I like to think of things evening out in the end."

"But do they?"

Bunny gave him a calm look. "Are you telling me that you've never hurt anyone on the way to protecting others?"

"Yeah, of course, when I've had to, but that's not the same thing."

"Kitten, life is complicated, and in my experience, not that black and white. What I do is provide a service. What people choose to do with that service is out of my hands. Each to their own, I say."

Roy shrugged. "I guess, but you've got to admit to some kind of responsibility in the whole thing."

"If I don't sell these weapons, other people will," said Bunny simply. "Removing myself from the game doesn't change the game, and at least I put some of my money towards philanthropic purposes. If I was to step aside from this business, the person replacing me might not be so inclined." He shook his head. "Oh my, but we got serious all of a sudden, didn't we?"

"I'm just saying that with the kind of life you've chosen, it's probably only going to be a matter of time before someone is looking to kill you over a deal gone wrong or something."

Bunny clutched his hands to his chest. "Oh darling, you're worried about your Aunty Bunny," he exclaimed in delight. "Aren't you the sweetest thing." Bunny immediately moved in to hug him tightly.

Roy wrinkled his nose as Bunny refused to let go. "This hug is lasting too long for me to be entirely comfortable with it."

Bunny nuzzled his cheek against Roy's chest. "Just go with it, honey, there is no fighting the Bunny love."

Roy sighed heavily, stuck in the Bunny embrace. Why did he keep getting caught up in these things?

**#**

Oliver sent off his last email, and then glanced at his watch. He still had to do some more prep before that meeting in LA tomorrow. It was going to be an early start to the day, but Oliver wanted to make sure the meeting went smoothly so they'd have plenty of time to see Felicity's mother in Vegas. Oliver smiled as he thought about how nervous Felicity was about the whole thing. Personally he was looking forward to it. He wanted to know every little thing about Felicity, and meeting her mother seemed like a good place to start. Oliver looked through his glass wall to see Felicity sitting at her desk, smiling up at Diggle as the other man leant against it, chatting away to one another. He stood up, and walked out to join them, a stack of files in his hand. "I'm assuming the sanction on me going near your filing room is still in place—"

"It is," said Felicity without hesitation.

"Then these are for you." Oliver walked up to Felicity's desk, and put the files on it, one slipping out and falling to the ground. He automatically bent to retrieve it, grimacing at the sharp pain the simple action caused. Oliver straightened up, rubbing his lower back, file in hand.

"Your back still sore?" asked Felicity sympathetically.

"It'll work itself out during the day," said Oliver dismissively.

Diggle was smirking. "Tell me again about the story of you falling out of the tree. It just never gets old."

Oliver scowled at him.

"I think it was very heroic what Oliver did," said Felicity swiftly.

Diggle arched an eyebrow. "Which bit was the heroic part? The falling out of the tree, or Ladybug landing on top of him?"

"First of all, I didn't fall," said Oliver hotly, still rubbing his back. "I was pushed and second of all, it was a controlled descent."

"I thought you landed on your back?" Diggle quizzed him.

"Well, yes," admitted Oliver reluctantly, "but I meant for that to happen."

"Really?" asked a skeptical Diggle.

"The alternative was landing on my face."

"Or your feet."

"Not an option with how Ladybug pushed me out of that tree."

Felicity shook her head. "I can't believe Ladybug would do that. I'm sure it was an accident."

"I distinctly heard him laughing on my way down," insisted Oliver.

"I think that may have been the wind in your ears," reasoned Felicity.

"I know the sound of a dog laughing at me."

Diggle half-smiled. "Which begs the question, how exactly? Is this a regular thing for you, Oliver – inciting dog hysterics?"

Oliver wasn't letting it go. "I know what I heard."

"What I don't get is how he got up the tree without you two noticing in the first place."

Oliver looked over at Felicity. "We were discussing something important." He kept his gaze on her. "Something I'm still waiting on an answer about, now that I come to think about it."

"I'm still thinking about it," said Felicity swiftly.

"That's okay," said Oliver easily, moving to kiss her cheek. "No pressure."

Felicity stepped back, and avoided the small intimacy. "Not here, remember?"

"But we're alone," protested Oliver.

"None taken," said Diggle calmly.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. You don't count, John."

"Again, none taken."

"You know I didn't mean it that way."

"It's fine, I'm just the hired help, I get it."

"Seriously?" Oliver pressed his lips together at Diggle's teasing annoyance. "I've already got a pain in the back, I don't need one in the neck as well."

Diggle chuckled. "Someone gets cranky when they fall out of trees."

Oliver scowled. "I was pushed," he insisted.

Felicity's phone rang, and she picked it up. "Oliver Queen's office… yes, I'll just put you through." She pressed the hold button, and looked up at Oliver. "Accountant John on line one, I'll put him through to your desk."

Oliver gave a short nod of his head. "Okay."

"Don't be too long," she called out after him. "You've got that rescheduled meeting with Marcus Kane in ten minutes."

Oliver waved a hand at her as he returned to his office. "Got it." He sat at his desk, and took the phone call, making sure to keep it short. Oliver was just hanging up when he heard some shouting from outside his office. He immediately stood up, taking in the fact Felicity was no longer at her desk, and Diggle had promptly sprinted off down the corridor. Oliver raced out of his office, following after the other man, and catching him up just in time to see Diggle grabbing another man by the scruff of the neck and dragging him away from a flustered looking Felicity. Oliver was by Felicity's side in an instant. "What's happening? What's going on?"

Diggle had a hold of the man's collar, holding it up enough off the ground that the man was forced to go up on tip toes. "Just a little bug problem. I'm handling it."

"Let me go!" snapped the man, reaching above him to grab at Diggle's arm with little effect, a camera in one hand. "I'm on public property, you've got no right to do this!"

Oliver put his arm around Felicity's waist, drawing her closer to him, jaw hardening as he felt her shaking a little.

"Wrong, you're in Diggle Town, and it has a big no vermin policy," said Diggle sharply. He twisted the camera out of the man's hand. "Also, no flash photography."

"Hey, that is my personal property!" exclaimed the man hotly. "Give it back."

"Of course." Diggle went to hand it to the photographer, but at the last moment let the camera fall to the ground. At the same time he released his hold on the man, but in such a way the intruder was forced to step forward to keep his balance. Diggle timed it perfectly as the man crunched his own camera under foot. "Ohh," said Diggle with mock sympathy, "unlucky."

"Son of a bitch! That was a two thousand dollar camera!"

"Guess that's why you can't have nice things, what with that clumsiness and all."

Oliver's voice was low as he looked at her in concern. "Felicity, are you alright?"

Felicity put an unsteady hand up to push her glasses back up her nose. "Yes, I'm fine," she said unevenly. "He just caught me off guard, that's all."

Oliver didn't need to be told he was looking at a paparazzi, one that had somehow managed to bluff his way past security to get to their office. He was most likely looking for some opportunistic photos of the new woman in Oliver Queen's life, something Felicity had clearly been unprepared for, and Oliver couldn't blame her for that. "How did you get up here?" he growled at the photographer.

"I asked nicely," snapped the man, still looking at the broken pieces of his camera in his hand. He held up the remnants of his camera, and shook it angrily at Oliver. "This was an act of vandalism. I'm going to sue. This camera is how I make my living."

"What you do isn't a living," growled Oliver. "It's intrusive and exploitative."

The man shrugged. "Hey, there's a market out there for pictures of the latest girl Oliver Queen is banging. I'm just filling a void." He gave a particularly ugly smirk. "You gotta know what that's like, right?" He winked at Oliver, and then let his gaze slide over towards Felicity, full of lecherous appreciation.

Oliver knew the man was trying to goad a response out of him, but even knowing that, it didn't stop him from going rigid, hand balling into a fist as he took a step towards the man.

"Oliver, no," said Felicity quickly, grabbing his arm. "Don't." Oliver turned his head to see Felicity looking up at him pleadingly. "Please."

It was very hard to say no to that face, no matter how much that asshole deserved it. Oliver looked back to the other men, a muscle ticking wildly in his cheek. "Mr. Diggle, would you escort this gentleman from the building, please?"

"Of course, Mr. Queen," said Diggle evenly. He grabbed the photographers arm and scruff of his neck again, and turned them around, marching him towards the elevator.

The man managed to tear himself from Diggle's grasp, swinging around to jab an accusatory finger at Oliver. "You're going to replace my camera, otherwise you'll be hearing from my lawyer!"

"I'll sit by the phone in anticipation," said Oliver flatly. The guy was lucky it was only his camera which got broken.

"Why don't you get your secretary to do that for you? We had some real heat there until we were interrupted, didn't we, baby?"

Diggle grabbed the man again, and swung him around hard into the elevator, however the elevator doors hadn't opened yet. The man gave a strangled grunt of pain as he was nearly knocked out from the impact. He slid down the door, only saved from hitting the ground by the hold Diggle still had on him.

Oliver arched an eyebrow at Diggle's obvious assault of the man. "See, not so easy to turn the other cheek, is it?" he said. "I thought you said I was being a cave man when I broke things on men's bodies?"

"On me it's adorable," said Diggle, straight-faced.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Right."

"Wh-what happened?" groaned the man, unsteadily getting to his feet with Diggle's help.

"You were being clumsy again," said Diggle. "You might want to see a doctor about that, get yourself checked out. It could be an inner ear problem."

"Oh, okay," said the man dazedly, still obviously a little out of it.

Diggle unceremoniously hauled him into the elevator, and closed the doors, leaving Oliver and Felicity alone.

Oliver immediately turned to Felicity, worry written all over his face. "Felicity, are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, yes," said Felicity distractedly rubbing her arm. "Like I said, he just caught me unawares. I'm fine."

Oliver gaze followed her nervous action, his eyes narrowing menacingly as he clearly saw red marks outline on her arm in the shape of a man's fingers. "What the hell is that?" He gently brushed her hand away, and took her arm in his hands so he could have a closer look. Oliver felt that vein in his forehead burst into immediate life. "Did he do this?" he demanded to know angrily. "Did that guy touch you?"

Felicity looked suddenly uncomfortable. "He just grabbed me to swing me around when I tried to leave, that's all."

"He touched you," repeated Oliver, his voice lowering ominously. Trying to take photos was one thing, actually laying a hand on Felicity was another ballgame entirely.

"Don't overreact," said Felicity hastily. "I don't think he meant to grab me that hard."

"He shouldn't have been touching you at all!" said Oliver hotly. This whole thing was rapidly getting out of control and he hated that. He saw Felicity's expression become a little stricken at his anger, and Oliver was instantly regretful. "Felicity, I'm so sorry this is happening to you," he said in contrition, moving to hug her.

Felicity took a hasty step back, and looked over her shoulder nervously. "Oliver, we shouldn't, not here."

Oliver pressed his lips together in frustration. "You know, I got to touch you more before we were dating." He just wanted to hold her, and reassure her that everything was going to be okay.

Felicity put her hands on her hips. "That is seriously not true," she said in exasperation.

"It is when we talk about me being able to come near you at work," said Oliver in mild vexation.

"Work is work," insisted Felicity. "People need to see us being professional with one another, and if another paparazzi pops up, there will be nothing for him to see."

"There isn't going to be another one of those parasites popping up," said Oliver grimly. "I'm going to make sure of it."

Felicity's expression became worried. "Don't do anything… you know… not good."

"What do you think I'm going to do?"

"You have a pretty broad skill set when it comes to what you wouldn't not do," said Felicity unevenly. "I just want you not to do any of those things that you won't not do."

Oliver blinked. "What?"

"Make good choices," Felicity instructed him, still looking worried.

"Felicity, I'm not going to kill anyone, if that's what you're worried about."

"I know that, but there is a whole grey area before getting to killing that I don't want you to get involved in either, not for me, especially not for me."

"So… you want me to do nothing?"

"Is-is that an option?"

Oliver stared at her, thinking seriously about her question. "No, no it isn't."

"But you've been ignoring these guys ever since you got back from the island," she protested. "This is the same thing."

"It's not the same thing because now they're involving you."

"But I don't care about them."

"You don't care that someone barges into your place of work, corners you and physically assaults you?"

"I think you're overstating the facts just a tad there."

"Which part of my statement was untrue?"

"The part where you made it sound like I was set on by an escaped death row convict."

"Now who's overstating the facts?" Oliver frowned at her. "Felicity, these guys, it's their business to try to goad and harass people into giving them a story. I'm worried what they're going to try and do to you to get that story."

"You're the story, not me, Oliver," said Felicity determinedly. "Anything they do to me is just so they can get a reaction out of you. I know you know that. Don't give them the satisfaction."

Felicity was right, but that didn't do anything to quell Oliver's instinctive need to protect her from this media interest. "What do you want me to do, Felicity? What will make you happy?"

She glanced over her shoulder as a young man stepped out of the elevator behind them. "Being on time for your next appointment will make me happy." Felicity looked back up at him and smiled. "And also, us cancelling our trip to see my mom."

"No deal. That's happening."

"We could say we've got bubonic plague."

"No."

"Bot fly infestation?"

"No."

"Foot and mouth disease?"

"Felicity—"

"Bumblefoot?"

"Stop giving us horrible infections. We're going to see your mother tomorrow. We'll have a great time."

"You know nothing," hissed Felicity accusingly. "It's going to be a nightmare."

"I don't know what you're basing that assumption on, but I feel like it's entirely false," insisted Oliver. "You're worrying over nothing."

"Just like you and this paparazzi thing, you mean?"

"Unless your mother bursts into my office, inappropriately touches me, and then takes photos of me, I don't see that being anywhere near the same thing."

"Those things could happen," said Felicity darkly. "This is my mother we're talking about."

Oliver's lips twitched. "Did you know you're adorably neurotic when it comes to your mother?"

"That adorableness is going to wear off pretty quickly the closer we get to D-Day, and it's just going to be plain neurotic," she warned him, pouting. "It's not going to be pretty."

"I survived five years in hell," said Oliver affectionately. "I think I can survive your mom neuroses."

Felicity snorted. "They all say that, and then reality sets in. When you're scraping crazy off your shoes come this time tomorrow, don't say I didn't warn you." Before Oliver could respond to that outburst of cuteness, Felicity turned abruptly around, walking towards the young man waiting patiently at the end of the corridor. "Hi Marcus, sorry to keep you waiting. Mr. Queen will be right with you."

"Thank you," said Marcus quickly, flashing her a nervous smile.

Oliver followed Felicity down the corridor, working hard not to appreciate the agitated sway of that full backside. Keeping it professional was easier said than done, particularly when Felicity insisted on being so utterly irresistible. Oliver steeled himself against inappropriate thoughts, and concentrated on the anxious looking man waiting for him at the end of the corridor. Oliver held out his hand as he reached the other man. "Thank you for rescheduling, Marcus. I really appreciate it, and I'm sorry about the inconvenience."

"No inconvenience, Mr. Queen," said Marcus hastily, shaking his offered hand. "I'm just really grateful you'd consider making time for me in the first place."

"I'm always interested in people with new ideas." Oliver waved his hand towards his office. "Shall we?"

Marcus' head bobbed up and down, and then he was walking ahead of Oliver into the office. Olive closed the door behind them, and then attempted to give all his attention to the other man. At least he still had Felicity in eyeshot, that always made him feel better, a fact he was unlikely to ever share with her. It was too much like when he was under the influence of the XR-320, and needed her nearby to survive, and he didn't want to reopen that particular Pandora's box between them. Felicity seemed to have let her reservations about it not being Oliver who was intent on pursuing her, but a toxin-addled Oliver, and he wasn't about to give her any reason to rethink that. It was just the reality was that having Felicity around, being near her made Oliver feel good, and always had, if he was honest. When he could see her Oliver knew she was safe, and when she was safe, he could think straight. There was a definite cause and effect situation going on with him along those lines when it came to Felicity.

"Mr. Queen?"

"Sorry," said Oliver quickly, realizing he was not off to a great start with giving the other man his sole attention.

"I was just asking if it's okay to set up my equipment for the presentation in your office."

"Of course. Do what you need to do."

"Thank you, sir."

Oliver folded his arms in front of himself and ordered himself to focus. He just hoped Diggle was dealing with that paparazzi loser the way he deserved. A small, cold smile touched Oliver's lips as he knew he would be. It was nothing less than the douchebag deserved, and Oliver could only hope it would serve as a warning to the others, but he highly doubted it… unfortunately.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N****: Hi y'all, talking to you from a sugar high today. Just made this unreal ice cream with only two ingredients, no ice cream maker. I've decided I want to be buried in a huge vat of the stuff. It's beyond awesome. So far beyond awesome that it's probably going to take a good ten years off my life. #totally worth it #no regrets I'm making myself Japanese beef rolls with lots of vegetables for dinner tonight by way of apology to my body. Forgive me, pancreas, I know not what I do… well, actually, I totally know what I'm doing, but I'm going to do it anyways. Have some broccolini by way of a peace offering. Broccolini absorbs sugar, right? I feel like it should. **

**Okay, so, chapter 10, I know I've been posting every 2-3 days instead of my usual every second day with the last story. How are you going? Bored with it? Pace too slow? Nothing really happening? All good points. I'm just hitting chapter 24 I think it is, and it's only just starting to pick up momentum there. Can you believe I honestly thought the stuff I'm writing in 24 would turn up around chapter 5? How delusional am I? Yeah, a really high level of delusion… or is that depths? Anyways, I'm clearly out of my mind. **

**I'm kind of overdosing myself and my muse in all these Olicity beats. I could just get on with the story and cut them all out, but I'm indulging myself – possibly over indulging if I'm honest. Mind you, I try and justify my crapulence with the thought that when things get horrible in the second half of the story, you'll be able to come back here and remember the good old days. That's something, right? I haven't really raised the stakes yet in this story – that's to come. I think the level of angst is so heavy on the show, I just wanted to wallow a bit in some fun Olicity stuff, because old Trollenheim is going to make us work for it, way more than I ever will/could. Lol He can stretch this out for up to another 3 years. I'm REALLY hoping I'll be done with this series long before that… although, at this rate, who knows?**

**Hmm, I haven't been amusing in this forward, have I? (Arguably not for the first time). Hanks currently on fire, but that's not a funny story… more a confusing one. Who knew guinea pigs could spontaneously combust – I thought that was just human thing. Guess Hank knows not to put the little guys in his mouth anymore. I just wish he hadn't had a mouthful of vodka at the same time. It's going to take a while for the hair on his face to grow back I'm thinking. Nothing worse than a bald monkey. Actually, maybe there is one thing, this is going to give Hank the perfect opportunity to bust out his toupee collection. I wouldn't be so against the comb over horrors if he didn't make them himself from hair he's sourced from about the place. I'm sorry, I don't care what Hank says, they still look like pubic hairs to me, no matter how much you attempt a 'Jennifer Aniston' with them. Plus, I'm pretty sure those beauty salons did NOT give him permission to scavenge all their Brazilian left overs. It's just all the way round unsettling. **

**So, to make up for the lack of humor, here are a few jokes to lighten the mood…**

**Number 1****: Topical, considering where you are…**

**What does the Green Arrow have in his drinks?**

**Just ice. **

**Number 2****: Also topical if you've read my A/N's…**

**How many South Americans does it take to change a light bulb? **

**A Brazilian. **

**Number 3****: Random thought for the day…**

**You know, I always used to think my brain was my most important organ… then I realized who was telling me that… now I don't know what to think. #body conspiracy theory #sshh, I think my brain is listening in on this #everyone act normal**

**And oh yeah, the story, I guess – read on while I do this thing I want to do over here…**

**CHAPTER TEN**

Oliver headed over to his desk, standing in front of it, and leaning back against it. "So, what do you have for me, Marcus?"

"I have a presentation," said Marcus. He quickly pulled out the laptop he'd been clutching, along with a small projector. Marcus fumbled to set it up, throwing Oliver vaguely apologetic looks in the meantime.

"No rush," Oliver reassured him. "My next meeting isn't until ten."

It didn't seem to ease Marcus' nerves though, as the younger man finally got everything set up. He picked up the remote control as an image of the world flashed up on the screen. Marcus cleared his throat. "Steven Pinker, the well-known science author, once said that 'with violence, as with so many other concerns, human nature is the problem, but human nature is also the solution." He cleared his throat again, voice sounding scratchy.

"Do you need a glass of water?" Oliver poured him one, and handed it to him.

"Thank you, sir," said Marcus, taking a quick gulp of the water.

"Oliver will be fine, Marcus."

Marcus gave another agitated nod of his head, and then sat the water down on the table his projector was resting on. "502 025 is the number of lives lost last year to guns in the US. Every day, on average, seven children are killed with guns. These figures, as horrific as they are, don't even include gun associated violence—" Marcus waved his hand around, indicating the graph now up on the wall. "The lives lost, all that potential, the remaining lives of those around them changed forever, there has to be—" He took another step, obviously intent on making his point, but Marcus' knee bumped against the coffee table his water was resting on, tipping it over, directly onto his projector. There was a popping sound, followed by a fizzing noise and the image on the wall promptly disappeared. "Oh no!" said Marcus in distress, floundering around, and desperately trying to mop up all the water. "I'm so sorry, sir."

Oliver straightened up, and walked over to him, feeling bad for how anxious the other man was. "It's fine, Marcus," he said evenly. "Just leave it. Your projector isn't going to get anymore fried at this point. The damage is done. You can still give me the presentation on your laptop, can't you?" Just as the words left Oliver's mouth, Marcus' laptop promptly threw a little orange spark, succumbing to its waterlogged state as well.

"My whole presentation was on that," said Marcus weakly, looking like he was going to be sick.

Oliver put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "Something tells me you know this presentation by heart, Marcus. Take a seat, just talk to me about your ideas. Trust me, I don't need the bells and whistles, and if your idea is any good, it doesn't need them either." Marcus let Oliver guide him over to the sofa, and Oliver undid his suit jacket button as he took a seat. He turned in his seat, resting an arm along the back of the sofa. "So, tell me your idea."

Marcus drew in a steadying breath. "Traditional forms of gun control aren't as effective as they could be because it relies on people doing the right thing. The people doing the right thing are rarely the problem when it comes to gun violence."

Oliver inclined his head. "That's true."

"Since you've taken over at Queen Consolidated, you've shown a real bent towards philanthropy, and making a difference to the disenfranchised and vulnerable amongst our society." Marcus paused. "Not that your father wasn't philanthropic," he added on rapidly. "I'm not saying that."

"I know, it's fine, go on."

"I've had this idea for a few years now, and I've only just recently figured out how to make it into a reality. I thought… hoped you'd be interested in developing it further for Queen Consolidated. It could potentially make your company a lot of money," said Marcus, voice rising with excitement, "but it could also make a huge difference to the entire world… potentially that is."

"And that idea is?" prompted Oliver.

"I've come up with this hard and software that can be implanted into any gun or rifle which can remotely disarm it."

Oliver cocked his head. "Really?"

"Yes," said Marcus, face flushed as the words tumbled out of his mouth. "Any gun fitted with this controlling device can be disabled by an app on your phone. That app will tell you immediately if your gun is being moved by someone other than yourself, and then you can disable it, completely removing its capacity for harm. Imagine it," said Marcus excited, "a shipment of arms goes missing, gets stolen, and the supplier can simply activate the app, and turn that entire shipment into worthless junk for anyone looking to sell them off, or use them for their own purposes. It gives a level of control over firearms that would be unprecedented. They say guns don't kill people, people do, when technically, it's people with guns, working guns, which do the killing. Take away the killing capacity of a gun, and you've just got a lump of plastic and metal with extremely limited ability to cause harm."

Oliver sat back in the seat, intrigued. "That could be a game changer. Over time, if all arms were produced with this technology, the ability to control gun use would be exponentially increased." His look was intent. "Could this technology be applied retrospectively to guns already out there?"

"Absolutely," said Marcus, leaning forward towards Oliver. "It'd be like those companies which can remotely unlock your car, but in reverse… and with guns."

Oliver couldn't help but think how useful this kind of tech could have been for him on more than one occasion. "Do you have the specs for all of this?"

Marcus grinned. "I do. I can email them to you anytime you like, sir."

"Oliver," he corrected him absently. "It won't mean that much to me, but I'll have an expert in all things tech related look it over." Oliver's gaze briefly wandered over to where Felicity was now sitting at her desk, working away quietly.

"Does-does that mean you're interested, sir—ah, Oliver?"

Oliver smiled. "I'm very interested. As you said, this could be a potential game changer, not just for Queen Consolidated, but the entire world. If everything checks out, that is."

"If you or your expert have any questions, just call me," said Marcus enthusiastically. "Or come down to the IT department. That's where I am. I kind of did this on my own time, you know, a pet project."

"I've had good luck with IT staff and their pet projects," said Oliver with another smile. "Hopefully that trend will continue."

"I hope so too," said Marcus with heartfelt sincerity.

Oliver stood up, and held out his hand again. "Thank you for coming to see me about this, Marcus. I'm very impressed, and hope this is the start of something very important."

Marcus jumped up and enthusiastically shook his hand. "Thank you for taking the time to see me. Jane is going to be so excited."

"Jane?"

"She's my fiancé." He grinned. "She'll be very happy to know all that time I spent hunched over a computer may be worth it. Jane's always been really supportive of my dreams."

"Well, the future Mrs. Jane Kane—" Oliver paused at the name.

"Yeah, I know," said Marcus with a lopsided smile. "She's going to marry me anyway. Must be true love, huh?"

Oliver couldn't help but smile. "Must be," he agreed in amusement.

"Jane's been with me every step of the way, even when I didn't know exactly what I was doing, she was just always there, encouraging me to be the best version I could be of myself, to never give up." Marcus wrinkled his nose. "Sorry. You probably don't need to hear all this. It's just sometimes I can't believe she's still in my life. I can get pretty obsessive about things. That can't be easy to live with." He shrugged. "But Jane stayed with me through it all. How can you not want to marry that?"

Oliver's gaze drifted once again to where Felicity was industriously working away at her desk. "How indeed," he murmured.

"You know, before she comes to her senses, and realizes she's not picking the easiest life," said Marcus wryly. "You just got to lock down someone like her before common sense prevails."

"I'm sure Jane doesn't see it that way."

"I know, that's one of the things which makes her so special." Marcus blushed a little. "Sorry," he mumbled, "again, you're probably not interested in my personal life."

"I can't fault a man for being in love, and not being afraid to show it," said Oliver calmly. "That's not a bad trait to have, trust me. Being guarded all the time can take its toll on those around you."

"It's funny, but I used to be just that around people, guarded I mean," said Marcus candidly. "But when I met Jane, all that started to change, and it kind of culminated in me asking her to marry me. You can always find a reason not to go all in with someone, but if you really love them, all those reasons kind of fade away. To be honest with you, I don't know why I didn't do it sooner. I knew she was the one for me the first time we met, I just didn't realize it. I think I fell in love with her slowly, and then all at once and ever since I realized that, everything just kind of made sense in my life, you know?"

"Actually, I do know," said Oliver slowly. It was a perfect description of him and Felicity.

"I'm babbling, aren't I?"

"No, not at all."

Marcus grimaced. "I was just really nervous about this meeting. I talk too much when I'm nervous… and occasionally throw up. I threw up three times before asking Jane to marry me. That was the most nerve wracking night of my life."

"Didn't you think she'd say yes?" asked Oliver, curious despite himself.

"In theory, yes, but the reality, when you're standing there, it's like when Jane got me that skydiving coupon for my birthday a couple of years back. There was a lot of unmanly screaming, and praying to God, any god really, until that parachute opened." A warm smile touched Marcus' lips. "But when that parachute did open, man, it was like nothing else, like I was flying and I was never going to come down."

"I'm good at jumping out of planes," remarked Oliver idly, eyes on Felicity again.

"With a parachute," corrected Marcus. "Not many people enjoy doing it without one, and that's what Jane is to me. Even if today had gone really badly, it would have been alright in the end because I had her to go home to." He gave a little shrug. "And that's everything… having that sense of home in a person."

Oliver just stared at him, knowing exactly where his home was in that moment. Maybe he'd always known, right from the beginning, that's why he'd kept circling his way back to Felicity time and time again. He was like that antsy stray cat which lingered around a house, refusing to come in at first, but slowly being lured to drop his guard as the person left out plates of milk and food for him. Felicity had been the one to show him the way to truly come home, the way to find his place in society again, not as an outsider, but as a part of something bigger than himself. Without her Oliver knew without a doubt he'd still be out in that cold, dark street, displaced from anything that felt like he could truly belong to.

"Oliver?"

Marcus' tentative saying of his name had Oliver snapping out of his wandering thoughts. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I was just asking what you'd like me to do next?"

Oliver inclined his head. "Of course. Just send me those specs, and we'll take it from there."

Marcus grinned. "Absolutely." He moved to collect his ruined laptop and projector, not seeming to mind the state they were in now.

Oliver then walked him to the elevator. "You'll hear from me soon."

"Okay, great, that's great," grinned Marcus as he stepped into the elevator. "Thanks again."

Oliver nodded as the elevator doors closed on the other man. Turning around, Oliver stuck his hands in his pockets, and sauntered over to Felicity as she still sat at her desk.

"Looks like you've made someone's day," she noted.

"Mr. Kane had floated a very interesting concept by me," said Oliver. "One I'd like your professional opinion on."

Felicity sat back in her chair. "Color me intrigued."

"Talk about it over a lunch date?"

"You already have a lunch date, and so do I."

Oliver frowned. "Who?"

"With Sales John and Accountant John."

"We have a lot of John's on the payroll, don't we?"

"More than a couple."

"But I meant who are you having lunch with?"

"My secret lover."

"Aha," said Oliver flatly. "Jokes about other men… my favorite."

Felicity laughed at his decided lack of enthusiasm. "It's funny because it's never going to happen. That's how come we can joke about it."

"Can't we do something else for fun instead?" requested Oliver. "Like, I don't know, punch me in the throat."

Felicity rolled her eyes at his melodramatics. "It's Lucius. He's in town, and we're meeting to sort out the last few details about your suit before you take it out into the field. I want to make sure every little kink is ironed out before that happens."

Oliver nodded. "Say hi to him for me, and next time he's in town maybe we can all go out for dinner."

"That's so… social of you, Oliver," said Felicity teasingly. "I'm impressed."

"I can be social," protested Oliver. "When I want to be." He gave her a warm look. "Haven't we been getting very social this last week?"

Felicity smiled up at him. "Some might say excessively so. I don't know how we managed to cram so many dates in over one week."

"Relentless dedication to the cause of getting us to twenty dates," said Oliver straight faced. "I can't make time move faster for our three week deadline, but I can sure do everything in my power to get this date quota done and dusted."

"It's soo romantic when you put it like that," said Felicity impishly.

Oliver leant over and put both of his hands on her desk, face now level with hers. "If you want romance, have dinner with me tonight," he said huskily.

Felicity smiled. "Okay, but can we go to Big Belly Burgers?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you are one cheap date," said Oliver teasingly.

"I'm craving one of their burgers… and a big plate of their fries with that awesome dipping sauce… and their pie… I hope it's apple tonight… their apple pie is the best… and maybe one of their onion blossoms… can't ever have enough of them."

Oliver gave an impish smile. "I take it back, you're not a cheap date. In fact I may have to sell off some stocks to pay for your meal at Big Belly's… or maybe I should just buy the place. That'd probably be cheaper."

Felicity stuck her tongue out at him for his teasing. "I used try and not eat much on dates, but I stopped doing that."

"Why?" asked an amused Oliver.

"I got too hungry. For the rest of the night I was just fantasizing about food." Felicity wrinkled her nose. "It wasn't good."

Oliver's gaze lingered over her beautiful face. "Well, I definitely don't want that to happen on our date," he said huskily. "I want all of your attention on me… just like all of mine is on you."

Felicity leaned on her desk, and smiled warmly up at him. "Trust me, it will be… unless the pie is apple… then it's going to be more or less equally split."

Oliver's lips twitched. "You are not great for my ego sometimes, Ms. Smoak, not if I can't beat out apple pie."

Felicity snorted. "Your ego is just fine, and it's apple pie, nobody can compete with that, and especially not with Big Belly's homemade ice cream on the side."

"I guess it's good that I know where I rank in your world… just under pie," said Oliver, straight faced.

"Not all pies," protested Felicity. "You're definitely above rhubarb pie… and peach cobbler, which I'm not sure is really still classified as pie, so it may not count—"

_Marry me. _

The words were right there on the tip of Oliver's tongue as Felicity rambled about her rating system of pies and where he fit into it.

"Of course there are also moon pies are another ballgame altogether. I love them and I know they're called moon pies, but really I just don't know if they can be classified as actual pies either—"

Oliver's heart was beating wildly in his chest as he realized he wanted to say those words to her more than anything else in that moment. He wanted to have endless conversations about desserts and lesbian cows and just everything for the rest of their lives.

Felicity folded her arms in front of herself, and sat back in her chair, caught up in her own back and forth. "Boy, this is way more complicated than I first gave it credit for. I'm going to have to give this a lot more consideration… plus, I really want some pie." Her attention was back on Oliver, and she frowned a little. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Oliver swallowed hard, and tried to rein in his wayward emotions, but he was struggling. He needed Felicity in his world permanently, legally required to be there by way of a marriage certificate. "Will you—" Oliver's voice cracked, and he was forced to clear his throat as he tried to stop himself from doing something he knew Felicity might regret, "will you… ah… have pie with me?" Asking Felicity to marry him out of the blue was only going to drive her away from him, seeing as she was the one who was intent on taking things slowly between them. He had to try and pull back on the breakneck speed he kept on pushing this relationship at. Easier said than done.

Felicity was looking at him in confusion. "You want pie?"

"I want pie," said Oliver with way more heartfelt emotion in that statement than was appropriate, mainly because he wasn't talking about pie.

"Since when do you like sweet things?"

"Since you."

Felicity blinked. "Me?"

"Yes," said Oliver emotionally, "you've made me wake up to the joys of sweet things and now I can't get enough of it… of them." _Of you_.

Felicity tilted her head, still looking perplexed. "You don't want _my_ pie right? You'll get your own? You know my stance on sharing delicious things. Do you need me to remind you how stabby I can get when push comes to shove?" She made a jabbing motion in the air. "I have no control over it. My dessert instinct kicks in and I'm totally out of control."

"I know," said Oliver, amused by her cuteness. "I still have the indents in the back of my hand from the crab cake incident."

"You brought that on yourself," said Felicity unapologetically. "I warned you… more than once."

"Apparently I'm a slow learner."

Felicity rolled her eyes. "Apparently."

"So, that's yes to a late dinner tonight, after I do some patrolling?"

Felicity's pony tail bobbed up and down. "Yes."

"That makes eleven," said Oliver knowingly. "Past halfway. And when I win our golf rematch—" Felicity gave an inelegant snort, which Oliver ignored. "I'll get my plus five dates, which will bring us up to seventeen."

"Eleven and five is sixteen."

"Plus the golf rematch, which is a date, so that counts. That makes seventeen." Oliver blinked, thinking about that. "And, if we had the golf game tomorrow night, after we get back from seeing your mom, counting tonight as well, that means we'd be up to eighteen." His look became a little more intense. "Which means, feasibly, we could reach our twenty date quota by Thursday, if we have a breakfast date and a dinner date that night." Two days away. Oliver's stomach turned over in excitement at the thought of there being no more restrictions on their dating. He hoped that was what Felicity was waiting for to tell him properly that she loved him. Oliver knew with every cell in his body that she did, but he just really needed to hear the words from her to convince himself that this was really happening, and it wasn't some amazing dream he was going to wake up from at some point.

A slight color heated Felicity's cheeks. "Assuming you win the golf rematch," she pointed out unevenly.

"Oh, I'm going to win," said Oliver with the utmost confidence. He had to. Now that he knew what was at stake, he was going to win or die trying.

Instead of her usual smack talk associated with her miniature golf abilities and his decided lack thereof, Felicity was looking at him with a serious expression on her face. "I know what I want when I win."

"That's such an unlikely thing now, it's almost a moot point."

Instead of sassing back at his teasing, Felicity maintained an intent eye contact. "I want a free pass."

"A free pass?" Oliver gave a small frown. "About what?"

"If you find out something about me at some point, and it feels like a deal breaker, you can't," said Felicity rapidly. "Break the deal, I mean. You have to give me a free pass."

Oliver was still confused. "Felicity, there is nothing you could have done in your past that would make me rethink us being together. I don't care what it is."

"You say that now, but you don't know, down the line, something could come up that I did before I met you—"

"What could possibly come up?" he asked in exasperation. "Felicity, look at my past, and how you've dealt with it all, even when it put your own life in danger. Just how big of an ass would I have to be to hold anything you have or haven't done in your life to date, no matter what it is?"

"Mm," murmured Felicity, not looking completely convinced. "But I still get my free pass, right? You can't think less of me."

"This is crazy, but fine, you get a free pass, not that you need it, or that you're going to win."

Felicity looked relieved, and now Oliver was very curious as to what it was Felicity was thinking she could possibly need a free pass for. Considering his life, and the horrors he'd been actively involved in, it was very hard to conceive of something comparable in Felicity's life. Even if there was, Oliver wouldn't care. Whatever had Felicity had done or not done in her past, it had helped shaped the woman he was insanely in love with. "So, tomorrow night? Miniature golf rematch date night?" Oliver hesitated, a smile hovering around his lips. "He said, uttering words he never thought he'd say in his life."

"Oh, it's on," said Felicity, slipping back into her smug superiority. "It's the onnest of the on."

Oliver grinned. He couldn't wait. Now, he just had to teach himself how not to suck at miniature golf in the next twenty four hours in amongst his fully scheduled day.

No problem.

**A/N****: Just a little a/n here, more of an observation really, but I really like on the show how Oliver, despite all he's gone through, is a nurturer by nature. He loves to take people under his wing and mentor them, help them realize their potential – a potential he sees instinctively, another one of his gifts. I like being able to highlight that about Oliver. He really does get a kick out of seeing people coming into their own, he's not threatened by it at all. And that, my dear ducklings, is the mark of a real man. Well, one of the marks, anyways. This thing with Marcus is more than just a way to stall the Olicity pay off with filling up chapters (although that is a collateral convenience, I won't lie). It has long ranging implications for more than one character in this story and the next. So, there is that. **

**Oh, BTW, I've tweaked with the story summaries for this story and SWB's to try and make them more enticing for people to start reading. Fanfic-addict very kindly helped me out with that – thanks, FFA! If you have a spare few seconds, could some of you maybe check them out and give me your feedback. I really am tragic at summaries – word limits and me aren't friends. I know it's hard to get that first time reaction, but I'd appreciate any notes people might be prepared to give. Thanks. :D**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N****: Hi peeps. This is where I'd normally prattle on about whatever was on my mind, but last night I spent a few hours downloading on Tumblr when jbuffyangel posted a couple of my submissions, so I emptied out the crazy there. Basically it ended up with talk of eating toilet paper and parasitic twins – yeah, it got weird, but honestly, it made sense at the time… not in the cold light of day perhaps, but at the time, perfectly rational thinking. **

**Consequently, the crazy bank is empty. That's the echo you can hear currently. It's just me and Hank fleaing himself quietly in the corner… I mean Hank is fleaing himself, I'm not. He can chew on his own butt. My life hasn't deteriorated quite that much yet… I'd give it unto the end of the week. **

**As for this chapter, it's kind of important one for fleshing a few things out. For those of you who are finding Felicity's hesitation frustrating, I hope this chapter will give you a bit more empathy from where she is coming from. Probably won't make it any less frustrating, but hopefully it'll be a bit more understandable. And secondly, we flesh out a new character just a wee bit, so there is that too. **

**Okay, I've got to emotionally prepare for work. I'll probably just eat some lunch. I made salted caramel chocolate ice cream last night. That feels like a nutritious, well rounded meal, right? Yeah, that's what I thought. **

**Toodles…**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

"Would either of you like to see the dessert menu?" asked their pleasantly smiling waitress.

Lucius looked at Felicity expectantly. "Can I tempt you?"

Felicity wrinkled her nose. "I'd love to… but I'm saving room for pie tonight, so I'd better pace myself."

Lucius smiled at the young woman serving. "No, thank you. We'll just finish our coffees."

The woman inclined her head, and left them to finish off their meal.

"Hot date tonight?" asked Lucius teasingly.

Felicity's eyes went wide. "What?"

"The one you're saving room for pie."

She blushed a little, realizing that even Lucius must have seen that picture. Felicity really hated the thought of that. She didn't want this kind, generous and wonderful man to think any less of her. "Oh… ah… well… yes," Felicity off weakly. "Oliver is taking me to Big Belly Burgers tonight. They have great pie."

Lucius smiled. "Big Belly Burgers?"

"I wanted to go there," said Felicity quickly. "Oliver isn't cheap or anything."

"I never meant to imply he was."

"Not that is why I'm with him," she said, words falling over herself in a rush to explain. "I don't care about Oliver's money."

"Of course you don't."

Felicity squirmed in her seat a little. "We're trial dating," she said lamely.

Lucius settled back in his chair and just smiled. "My dear girl, you may be trial dating, but I can assure you, young Mr. Queen is not trial anything when it comes to you."

Felicity felt her blush deepen. "You saw the picture in the newspaper," she said unhappily. "It wasn't what it looked like." _Only it was… a lot._

"I didn't see any picture," said Lucius easily. "I heard whispers about Oliver's new lady, but I prefer not to listen to gossip. It is really none of my business." He looked at Felicity over the top of his coffee cup. "Although, if you'll allow me one small observation on the matter?"

Felicity gave him a nervous look. "Okay."

"I'm very happy for you both."

Felicity's shoulders sagged with relief. "You are?"

"It was obvious to me that first night, when Oliver kicked down the door to save you from my nefarious clutches, how he felt about you—"

"Oliver's really sorry about that," said Felicity in a rush. "He said to say hi and we should all have dinner some time. That door thing… it was just a big old misunderstanding."

A small smile played around Lucius' lips. "Why do I get the feeling he has a lot of those about you?"

"No, he doesn't." Felicity hesitated. "Wait… what do you call 'a lot'?"

Lucius laughed. "I think my theory has just been confirmed. I'm just happy to see you are happy." He arched an eyebrow. "You are happy, aren't you?"

"Oh yes," sighed Felicity emotionally. "Even though—"

"Even though?"

Felicity screwed her face up. "We're going to see my mom tomorrow," she said morosely.

"How is your mother these days? Making improvements, I hope."

"Her physio is going great. They said she might be able to leave earlier than they originally predicted, but Mom lives alone, so I don't want her to rush out of a place where there are people around her to help her 24/7."

"Well, that sounds all good to me, and yet I'm detecting a slight undertone of horror at the thought of seeing your mother."

"It's not me seeing my mom that is worrying me," fretted Felicity. "It's Oliver."

"You don't think they'll get on?" asked Lucius curiously.

"Oh no, they'll get on," said Felicity in annoyance. "That's the problem. And why I need to go and pick up some salted toffees before tomorrow."

Lucius tilted his head. "And how could that be a problem, and where do the salted toffees come in?"

"Mom loves salted toffees, and I love them too, because they're super chewy and when she's eating them, she can't talk." Felicity lowered her voice, and leaned over the table, expression very serious. "My mother must not be allowed to talk."

Lucius' expression matched hers in seriousness, but there was an impish light in his eyes that suggested he wasn't taking the mom threat quite as seriously as she was. "And that would be because…"

Felicity let out an agitated breath. "Because Oliver doesn't know everything about me."

"It's been awhile, but from memory, that's the fun thing about dating, finding out the everythings… and I assume, that applies to trial dating too," said Lucius in amusement.

Felicity pulled a face. "Sure, but I don't know if you know this about me, but I can be a little quirky sometimes."

"You don't say."

"I want to release my relationship crazy in small, metered doses, so Oliver can absorb it gradually, over time, and not notice just how much crazy I'm bringing to the table until… you know… it's too late. My mother is going to ruin that plan. She knows too much about me."

"Mothers are like that," agreed Lucius with utmost seriousness.

"I never know what she's going to say next, and I can't have Oliver exposed to that," said Felicity in agitation. "There are certain things I've done in my past that Oliver may need to take a run up at. You just can't leap in, but my mom is a leaper, a big time leaper and that can't happen."

"Hence the toffee plan."

"Hence the toffee plan."

"May I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Has Oliver revealed things about his past that perhaps did not show him in the best light?"

"Oh yeah," said Felicity without thinking, and then grimaced. "I mean, they weren't that bad… obviously." _Only they were._

"And did that change the way you felt about him?"

Felicity thought seriously about that question. "Yes."

"How?"

"It made me love him more," she said quietly.

Lucius' expression became one of fatherly direction. "Then perhaps you might consider giving Oliver the same gift of being able to love you more deeply… more completely?" he suggested softly.

Felicity just stared at him. "Wow… you're good."

"I just happen to believe in the power of love being able to overcome a great deal, and it is very obvious to me that you two love each other very much. I could see that even in the brief interactions I've seen between the two of you."

"I'm overthinking this, aren't I?" asked Felicity unhappily. "It's so weird. Oliver always used to be the one all up in his head, finding reasons not to contemplate a relationship between us, and I was the ever hopeful one just hanging in there and now…" She trailed off and bit her bottom lip. "I don't know… Oliver is actually pursuing me and I can't tell you the number of fantasies I had about him doing just that—" Felicity stopped again abruptly. "Perfectly innocent fantasies," she said hastily. "PG-13 at worst."

Lucius looked to be hiding a smile again. "Of course."

"Anyways," said Felicity unevenly, "now that it's actually happening, and so fast, I don't know, it just doesn't feel real… like, if I make any sudden moves, it's all going to disappear around me." Her expression became stricken. "And I don't think I could take that. I love him so much, Lucius, it actually hurts. I've made mistakes in my relationships in the past, and I really don't want to do that with Oliver."

"We consume our tomorrows, worrying about our yesterdays," said Lucius evenly.

Felicity gave him an admiring look for that piece of wisdom.

"Not mine," said Lucius with a smile. "Persius, the Roman poet… but the man has a salient point. Felicity, whatever your yesterdays contained, they shouldn't hold you back from your tomorrows."

"I know," said Felicity shakily, "and I'm not usually the emotionally retarded one in my relationship with Oliver, he is. We've kind of flipped roles going into this romantic thing, and it's freaking me out on some level."

"You're just finding your feet as a couple, that happens when friends transition into lovers," said Lucius knowingly. "Everything you're experiencing is completely normal, and I can't really believe that you have anything in your past which is going to do anything other than give Oliver another reason to love you… which he doesn't seem to be wanting in that particular department."

"Oh sure," said Felicity flatly, "because every man wants to be hooked up with a woman who has a complicated cereal system."

Lucius tilted his head. "I don't know what that means."

"I have a minor cereal obsession," she confessed. "I currently have twenty-eight different types of cereals in my pantry, and I have a system with which one I eat on what days."

The smile was back on Lucius' face. "Well, now I'm just going to have to ask."

"You'll think I'm insane," said Felicity reluctantly.

"My dear young lady, I've just sat through lunch with you, and watched you figure out the last few issues with a bio-suit that could quite frankly revolutionize more than one area of industry. I think you're brilliant."

"I couldn't have done it without you, Lucius," said Felicity sincerely.

"It would have taken you a little longer, but you would have gotten there," replied Lucius without hesitation. "Don't ever underestimate your intelligence, Ms. Smoak, you're shining light… which is why I can't wait to hear about your cereal system."

Felicity pursed her lips. "Okay," she said reluctantly, "but no judgment."

"Never."

"So, it starts with a color coding system… if I have green colored cereal on the first day, I then have to have brown the next day, followed by yellow on the third day… unless the yellow cereal has holes in it, then I can have a half and half with a fruit based cereal… as long as it doesn't have nuts… because I'm allergic to nuts, then I have to go back to brown cereal and not have it with milk but with yoghurt and slice fruit on it…" Lucius sat patiently as Felicity continued on with her intricate cereal system until she was finally done. She stared at him worriedly. "See, now you think I'm insane, don't you?"

Lucius just smiled. "I think I wish I was thirty years younger so I could give Oliver Queen a run for his money when it came to winning your heart," he said affectionately.

Felicity blushed at that.

"But I fear it'd be a lost cause," continued on Lucius smoothly. "It's obvious who you are in love with, Felicity. Don't be afraid. Oliver clearly isn't, and I don't think your intriguing cereal system will drive him away."

"I hope not but I guess that's why I'm being afraid for both of us," said Felicity shakily. "We always kind of balance each other out. When he's being down and serious, I kind of pick him up and lighten everything for him. I think it's my default to balance him out, so now that Oliver is being so certain and optimistic, I can't help but pull the other way a bit." She grimaced. "I wish I could stop."

"You'll stop when he's proved himself to you," said Lucius simply.

"That sounds awful, like I don't trust Oliver, and I do, I really, really do."

"I have no doubt you trust him in many areas, but him having your heart is new territory for you… and his track record, if even half the stories I've heard are true, isn't that great. It's not unreasonable to still have some reservations about the man in that area. It doesn't take away from your overall trust in him… just an acknowledgement of there is more ground to cover."

Felicity sighed heavily. "I just didn't think I'd be the sticking point in this whole relationship. I just assumed it'd be Oliver."

"Sometimes we surprise ourselves… that's not necessarily a bad thing. You're worth working for, and the wait. If Oliver doesn't know those two things, then he simply isn't worthy of you."

Felicity looked at Lucius' kind face, and thought about his even kinder words. She usually didn't give it much thought, but in that moment, she realized how much she'd missed having a father growing up. It was something she never tried to dwell on, after all, you don't miss what you never had, right? Only being with Lucius, and having this older man's calm insight and wisdom being given to her so freely caused a pang deep inside Felicity that she hadn't been able to have that from her own father. "Thank you, Lucius," she said emotionally. "I know you didn't really sign up to hear my emotional woes. Thank you for being so patient with me."

Lucius reached over and patted her hand. "It's my pleasure, Felicity. I'm blessed to have your youth and intelligence in my life. You make me smile, and if I can return those favors in some small measure, than I am more than happy to do so."

Felicity actually felt tears prick her eyes at Lucius' sweetness as she smiled back at him, so happy to have him in her life.

**#**

Felix smiled at the enormous man behind the desk who looked like he belonged on a football field rather than crammed into a security guard's uniform. "Hi there. I was just wondering what floor Felicity Smoak is on, please?"

The broad shoulder man blinked at him, looking less than helpful. "Who wants to know, Junior?"

"Umm… I do… obviously… and I'm twenty three, so you know, not that junior."

"What business do you have with Ms. Smoak?"

"That's something I'd prefer to discuss with her in person."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but—"

"There is no going to the upper floors without an appointment."

"Oh, okay then. Can you put me through to her so I can make an appointment?"

"No phone calls unless you have an appointment."

Felix pursed his lips. "And how is that meant to work exactly? I can't see her without an appointment but I can't make a phone call to make an appointment without already having an appointment."

The unaccommodating man just looked back at him steadily. "Not my problem."

"Can I leave a note?"

"No."

"Could you deliver something for me?"

"No."

"Could you be more unhelpful?" asked Felix in exasperation.

He folded his arms in front of his chest, managing to look even bigger and more menacing from behind his desk. "Absolutely."

Felix adjusted the leather satchel slung over his shoulder in agitation. "Okay, fine, I'll just wait here until she leaves."

"Yeah, no, you're not going to be doing that," said the security guard coolly.

"Look…" Felix squinted at the man's name tag. "Carter… is that your first name or last?"

The guard didn't answer, just stared back at him.

"Okay, whatever. I just need to see Felicity Smoak for a couple of minutes. It's not a big deal. She'll be totally fine with it." He grimaced. "Probably… maybe… I don't know, it could go either way if I'm being honest."

"Nobody gets up to the managerial levels without an appointment," said the dogged Carter. "You don't have an appointment. You're not going anywhere."

"You're being kind of a dick about this, you know that? I've come a long way to see Felicity, we're old friends."

"If you're old friends, then you'll have Ms. Smoak's phone number, then won't you?"

"Ah… well… about that—"

"Yeah, that's what I thought," said Carter flatly.

Felix scowled. "Hey, I don't have to justify myself to you. You're oppressing my constitutional right to enter into a public building—"

"I'm not oppressing anything… yet," warned Carter. "But keep wasting my time, and this thing could escalate quickly."

"Is that a threat?" asked Felix in outrage.

"Yes."

"Oh," he said, taken aback. "Okay, guess I nailed it then."

"You need to not be here anymore."

Felix's cell phone rang and he quickly answered it, trying to buy some time to work out how to get past this annoying man. "Hello? Oh, it's you… stop ringing me, you whack job! I don't want to hear it! No, I don't care! Shrivel up and die already!" He hung up abruptly and saw Carter still staring at him. "My mom," said Felix lamely, pretty certain the other man wasn't interested in the truth.

"Ah ha."

"Okay, how about this. I give you three hundred dollars to deliver something to Felicity's office?"

Carter's gaze ran over him skeptically. "You have three hundred dollars?"

"It'd be an IOU situation."

"Do I look like an idiot to you?"

"You look like someone who possibly needed more hugs as a kid," said Felix candidly.

"Do you think pissing me off is really the way to go here?"

"No, but it might throw you off guard long enough for me to do this—" Felix darted around the desk, making a dash for the elevators. He'd been banking on the other man's vast size slowing him down, but the humorless Carter was surprising fast on his feet. Felix had barely gotten halfway to the elevators when suddenly he was hauled off his feet and thrown unceremoniously over Carter's shoulder. He struggled to get free, but Carter had a vice like grip on him and it was no use. "This is a massive overreaction which only succeeds in making us both look foolish!" announced Felix loudly as Carter just carried him through the foyer, ignoring other people's startled looks.

Carter unloaded him in the revolving door, and then swung on the rotating doors, hard. Felix spun out of them at great speed, ending up being dumped on the sidewalk in front of Queen Consolidated in an undignified heap. He scrambled to his feet, dusting himself off. "Okay, that was just rude," said Felix sharply. "You're not a very good ambassador for your city, you know that?"

Carter didn't look overly concerned by that fact as he now stood guard over the revolving door.

"This isn't over," Felix warned him imperiously. "I have not yet begun to fight!" Carter took a threatening step towards him and Felix hastily backed up. "At a later date," he finished off rapidly. "The fighting will happen later."

"Go away, little man," said Carter gruffly. "While you still can."

"I'm five eleven and a half!" protested Felix. "And my shirts are medium. If anything I'm medium man!"

"How does that help?" asked Carter in exasperation, still talking to him through the glass of the revolving door.

"I don't know, I just felt like it was an important distinction to make. I'm not small, I'm medium."

"You're an idiot is what you are, and I've wasted enough of my day on you. Get lost."

"Oh, I'll get lost, and then, when you least expect it, I'll be there, in your face!" said Felix triumphantly.

"Don't tell people you're going to surprise them, moron. It defeats the point."

"You're not the boss of me. I can ruin my surprises if I want to," said Felix indignantly.

"Are you getting dumber by the minute or is my tolerance level just dropping rapidly?"

Felix straightened the satchel over his shoulder and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I don't have to stand here and be insulted like this."

"And yet you won't go away," said Carter in vexation. "What's up with that?"

Felix grimaced. "I'm going, but you'll see, you've made a big mistake today. One that could have lasting ramifications."

"If you want lasting ramifications, keep talking, medium man," said Carter darkly.

"You don't frighten me," sassed Felix.

Carter made a sudden lunge in his direction, and Felix scrambled out of the way, almost falling off the sidewalk in the process. Carter gave him a self-satisfied look at the overreaction.

"There was a bee," said Felix hotly, miming swatting at the air to cover up the coward's advance situation he had going on. "I'm allergic. I could have died."

"You still could," said Carter ominously.

Felix gripped his satchel and glared at him, but decided against anymore verbal banter. That revolving door wasn't quite enough of a barrier between them to push the conversation any further. Felix turned around and headed back towards the bus stop. He needed to get to Felicity and fast. There had to be a way. He just couldn't give up, too much depended on it. No one was going to stop him from seeing Felicity Smoak, Felix didn't care what it took.

**A/N****: So, there you have it. Felix isn't Felicity's father… but who is he, and what does he want with her? I realize my original description of him didn't really provide you with an age. I always hate introducing new characters, because I have to try and describe them to you without doing the cardinal sin of an information dump. Clearly I still have a lot of work to do on perfecting that technique, amongst others. Hopefully you have a bit of a clearer picture of him now, but the mystery around him remains. **

**See, there was a point to that Aquarium date, aside from the obvious, because it brought about the picture, which brought about the paparazzi, which brought about the sanction of being able to easily see Felicity, which in turn has foiled Felix' plans. It was all a cunning plan… although cunning plans become less cunning when you go to the trouble of explaining them – then they just kind of seem convoluted… which I guess this one was. . **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N****: Okay, boring a/n today, kiddies, because I'm rushing around trying to get the house/animals in order and go to work before I head off for my trip down south. It's going to be about 9hrs driving each way, and I have to visit family and do training while I'm away for that week. All things I enjoy doing, it's just going to be a fairly crammed week… and I hate driving. Just loathe it. So yeah, not looking forward to that. **

**It also means Hank and Fernando Del Vecchio have free reign of the house, so heaven only knows what I'm going to be coming back to. As long as nothing is on fire, I don't come back to a three toed sloth prostitution ring and the police aren't involved, I guess I'll deal. But yes, that means I'm off the radar for the coming week. I won't get back until late the following Sunday, then I have to work another 2 weeks straight… so don't plan for much coherence coming from me during that time, okay? Good. **

**Okay, gotta run… then drive… then run again, so I'll leave you with this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it. There has been a lot of exposition of Oliver and Felicity's feelings about one another in the last couple of chapters, and the trend continues with this one. Hope it's not too boring for you, but I have to justify where my characters are at, so that means exposition of their head spaces. **

**See you all in a week…**

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

Diggle walked out of the coffee shop with two coffees and already half way through the sandwich he'd just bought. Another lunch hour on the run, at least for him. He'd just finished doing some initial recon on the first person on Felicity's list, the inappropriately named dentist. Diggle had dropped Oliver at his lunch meeting, and had just returned to pick him up again. It seemed that the younger man was in no great rush to get back to the office though, which was fine by him. Diggle was starving and was glad of a chance to quickly grab some food. He glanced up and down the street, looking for Oliver and spotted him across the road, standing in front of a jewelry shop. He crossed the road and came to stand beside his friend, taking in the way he was intently looking through the window. "In case you're wondering, I like my Rolex's in gold."

"I'll take that under advisement," murmured Oliver, still distracted by the display in the window.

"Looking for anything in particular?"

Oliver sent him a hasty sideways glance. "Ah, well, you know Thea… Christmas isn't that far away."

Diggle looked through the window to what had captured the other man's attention so intensely. "Those are engagement rings," he pointed out. "Now, I don't know what the etiquette was like on that island on yours, but here in the good old U.S of A, we're still not down with the whole marrying your sister thing." Diggle's lips quirked. "Just thought I should point that out in case it made for some awkward family dinners with you and Thea in the future."

Oliver sent him an unamused look. "I'm not looking at engagement rings for Thea," he said flatly. "Obviously."

"But you are looking at engagement rings," noted Diggle. "And I'm kind of guessing that I'm not your type, and that pretty much leaves only one other person you could possibly be thinking about when you're looking at those rings."

Oliver looked a little flustered. "I was just walking by, they caught my eye. I'm not thinking anything."

"It's you, Oliver, you're always thinking something."

"It's way too soon to be even considering asking Felicity to marry me," said Oliver unevenly. "I'm not doing that."

"Aha."

"I'm not. I was just waiting for you to get back, and happened to be in front of a jewelry shop. It could have just as easily been a bakery."

Diggle arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, but there really isn't such a thing as an engagement bagel, I don't care how Jewish Felicity is."

Oliver's unamused expression didn't waver. "In case you're wondering, you're not funny."

"Maybe you just don't get my jokes?"

"Maybe you should stick to what you're good at." Oliver gave him an intent look. "Did you take care of our pest problem?"

"Mr. Caltabiano is on our 'no fly' list with Security now. Plus, I've told them that no one is to get up to your office without your express say so. All phones calls will also go through the head of security. If they're not a known associate of Queen Consolidated and are able to verify that, they won't get put through to your office."

"Good," said Oliver tightly. "I don't want a repeat of this morning."

"Either do I. Felicity's my girl too, you know."

"I know," said Oliver, sounding happy about that. He shot a sideways look at Diggle. "Oh, by the way, I just have to say… Diggle Town?"

"Yes, Diggle Town," said Diggle unapologetically, "and you're looking at the Mayor, Sheriff and Judge. You got a problem with that?"

"That's a lot of badges," noted Oliver wryly.

"I've got the chest to pin them on."

"Really, cause I've always pictured you more as a sash kinda guy."

"Stop picturing me in sashes. Isn't it enough you're facing down a potential sexual harassment suite from Mrs. Steinman?"

"Don't flatter yourself. Just because one handsie billionaire is desperate to get into your pants, doesn't mean we all are. Your charms aren't that all-encompassing."

Diggle smiled, taking Oliver's playful dig in his stride. "Just what is it exactly you've got against Bunny anyways?"

Oliver scowled at him. "You mean aside from him playing house in the nerve center of our private business? The lair is nothing but wall to wall throw cushions and hair products since he moved in."

"You're exaggerating." Diggle paused. "Maybe not about the cushions. The man does love his throw cushions, but I get it, it's that change thing of yours."

Oliver's brow furrowed even more. "What change thing of mine?"

"Change," said Diggle easily. "You're not great with it."

"Yes, I am," said Oliver hotly.

"You're really not." He cocked his head. "How do you not know this about yourself?"

"Because it's not true," said Oliver in agitation. "Out on the street I'm always adapting to my situation."

"That's out on the street. In your private life you like your routines." Diggle took a sip of his coffee. "Mondays is working on your abs and arms, followed by Thai food. Tuesdays is cardio day, followed by Thai food again, but from a different place. You usually eat it when you do your washing. I'm not throwing shade, man. I get it. You like patterns and order because for a long time you lived in chaos. I'm just saying that you don't like people messing with your systems, puts you on edge."

"I don't have OCD or anything," said Oliver hotly. "I can vary my routines anytime I want."

"Yeah, but you don't. In fact I'd hazard a guess that until this conversation, it never even occurred to you to do such a thing."

"Oh, so what, you can read my mind now?"

"I'm going to go ahead and take that as a confirmation of my theory unless you come up with something compelling in the next five seconds to sway my opinion."

Oliver glared at him. "Your theory sucks."

"Yeah, okay, not compelling at all. More like grasping at straws."

"I'm not justifying how I choose my life to you," said Oliver tersely.

"That is a correct summation of this conversation," said Diggle, unable to help himself from needling Oliver just a little bit more. "You're being totally unconvincing." He eyed the rings in the window. "Particularly when it comes to your so-called casual disinterest in engagement rings all of a sudden."

Oliver looked back at the rings. "You think I'm crazy?" he asked, voice hardening.

"You put on green leather and run around the city shooting arrows at the bad guys," said Diggle easily. "I think it's safe to say I don't think you're not not crazy."

Oliver turned to look at him. "You know what I mean," he said sharply. "And you run around the city with me."

"Not in leather, and not with a bow and arrow." Diggle tilted his head and regarded Oliver steadily for a moment. "Are you seriously asking me what I think about this?"

"Yes," said Oliver quietly.

"What if I said I disapproved the hell out of even the idea of you asking Felicity to marry you?" he asked curiously.

Oliver's jaw hardened and his head came up. "I'd tell you to go to hell," he growled.

"So, not so much looking for a devil's advocate here," said Diggle wryly.

Oliver was staring at him. "Would you really have a problem with this?"

Diggle pursed his lips. "Do you remember about a month ago, when we were testing the suit out at the old docks?"

"You mean where I almost crushed Felicity to death, and then was poisoned by noxious gas which turned me into a psychotic love sick killing machine, and you were shot at by heavily armed men chasing you down in vans?" Oliver arched an eyebrow. "Vaguely."

"Before all the fun and games began, you were telling me about your almost moment with Felicity and remember what I told you? I said to make up your mind, all in or all out." Diggle gave a little shrug. "I can't really say much when that's obviously what you've done." His lips quirked. "Although, I will say this. What's tonight going to be? A week of dating? Excuse me, trial dating."

"Eleven days," Oliver muttered.

"Okay, eleventh." Diggle took another sip of his coffee. "I can't help but feel being in a relationship with you would be like being a passenger in a high performance drag car. You go from standing perfectly still to a warp speed within fifty feet which leaves your heart in your mouth, stomach back at the starting line and possibly a little pee in your pants."

"You're quite the wordsmith, aren't you?" asked Oliver acerbically.

"It's fast, Oliver, that's all I'm saying and have said more than once to you before. Weren't you the one who told me that you promised Felicity that you could take this as slow as she needed to?"

"I know," said Oliver in frustration, "and I'm trying."

"You're looking at engagement rings after less than two weeks of not even proper dating," said Diggle. "You may need to try a little harder."

"It's proper dating," said Oliver sharply. "Felicity just wants to call it trial dating because-because—"

"She's worried about going too fast?" offered up Diggle innocently. "She's worried about what is at stake, and wants to make sure that you really know what you want before giving herself to you completely to potentially destroy."

"Felicity doesn't need to worry about any of those things when it comes to me," said Oliver fiercely.

"Clearly she doesn't agree."

Oliver made a frustrated noise, and abruptly turned back to the window. "I thought you were on my side, that you thought a relationship between Felicity and me was a good thing."

Diggle could see Mr. Throbby pounding away in the other man's forehead. He sighed, understanding Oliver's vexation but also understanding the delicacy of the situation. "I'm on both of your sides, I want to see this work out between you two. That's why I'm just cautioning you that an engagement ring, this early in the proceedings, when Felicity clearly still has some reservations, may not be the smartest move you can make."

"You think I don't know that?" asked Oliver quietly, still staring sightlessly into the jeweler's window.

"Okay, then why—"

"We're not sleeping together, Felicity hasn't told me she loves me out loud…"

"So, what, you were thinking an engagement ring might change both of those things?"

Oliver's head snapped around, and he glared fiercely up at him. "No," he said sharply. "How can you even ask me something like that? I don't want to bribe Felicity into my bed or into saying that she loves me."

"Then I may need to buy a vowel here? Why the sudden interest in engagement rings when you'd both agreed to go slowly?"

Oliver stared down into his cup of coffee, not seeming that interested in drinking any of the dark brown liquid. "Felicity took me on a date the other night… we played miniature golf," he said abruptly.

"I know."

"I suck at it."

"I heard. Felicity reenacted her little 'in your face' dance and everything when she told me."

A little smile came to Oliver's lips. "I love that dance."

"It was quite the sight," agreed Diggle in amusement. There was just something so infectious about the enthusiasm with which Felicity threw herself into things, and the way she experienced life. It should have made him feel jaded by comparison, but it never did. "She wasn't very kind about your golfing prowess at the time."

"With good reason," said Oliver easily. "I mean, I really blow." He frowned a little. "I think it penalizes tall people, the clubs are too short or something."

"Yeah, that'll be it."

Oliver looked directly at him. "When we first met, did you ever picture me as a guy who'd go and do something like miniature golf just for the sheer fun of it?"

"I think that's a resounding no on that one," said Diggle calmly. The young man he'd met, once he'd gotten past the thin veneer of irresponsible Ollie, had been angry, bitter and untrusting of everyone and everything.

"Right," said Oliver seriously. "That guy who came back from those five years in hell… I didn't like that guy but I thought I needed to be him to make a difference, to survive, and set the wrongs of my father right."

"Your father didn't want you to survive, Oliver," said Diggle quietly. "He wanted you to live. Those are two very different things."

Oliver gave a lopsided smile. "I know… at least, I do now. It took me a while to work it out, but the reality is, when I'm with Felicity, that's when I'm alive and living life."

"I know," said Diggle softly.

"The thing with Felicity is I get to be totally myself." Oliver paused, clearing warming to his subject. "But also not myself. When I'm with Felicity I don't have to be this broody, angst-driven product of my past. I'm just a guy laughing and enjoying life." He briefly closed his eyes. "And it feels amazing, John. I've never had this with another woman. She knows and understands both sides of me – the one who needs to protect this city and the people in it and the guy who sucks at miniature golf but can laugh about it. I don't have to be one or the other with her, I can be both." Oliver's expression was very intent. "How can I not want to marry the person who makes that possible? I want it all with Felicity, the whole nine yards. I want to wake up every day next to her, to know I'm the last man she'll ever kiss, the only man who has her heart," said Oliver earnestly. "I want her to want to take a chance on me, and I want more than anything to prove her right for taking that chance. I want to be able to tell her I love her and always will, and she doesn't doubt that I mean it." He gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders. "I want to marry Felicity, Digg. I love her. I know it's fast in one way, but in another, it's not really. We've known each other for nearly three years, and a lot of big things have happened in that time. That escalates a relationship. What we've seen each other through in that time… it doesn't matter that we weren't dating during that time, we were together, and that gives our relationship a depth way beyond eleven days of trial dating."

Diggle gave Oliver a considered look after his emotional outburst. "Can I just say that for a man who just told me that you weren't thinking about marriage… you've given this a lot of thought."

"I hadn't coherently thought about Felicity and marriage," said Oliver a little unevenly. "It was more just a stream of consciousness thing when I came out of the XR-320 fog and knew I couldn't fool myself any longer that friendship was enough for me with her. There was just a part of me that knew we'd get there eventually but then…"

"But then what?"

"But then today I was talking to someone, and they just kind of made me realize that I had to make that happen. Everything feels so natural with Felicity. I don't know, it was like I was expecting to wake up one day, and just find ourselves married." Oliver fixed him with a vaguely worried look. "That's not something that happens."

"Unless you're in Vegas," noted Diggle idly. "If Hollywood is to be believed, that happens quite a lot."

"Yeah, well, we're not in Vegas, and I want to be married to Felicity Smoak, and that means an engagement ring," said Oliver determinedly. "It doesn't mean I'm looking at proposing tomorrow. I know Felicity needs more time to get used to all of this, to trust me properly as a romantic partner, and I'm fine with that."

Diggle's look became a little skeptical.

"Okay… fine with occasional outbursts of nerves and anxiety," he backtracked. "But mostly I'm fine with it." Oliver pressed his lips together tightly. "Is it really so bad that I'd like to have something concrete to hold onto, to have that security of knowing that when the time is right, I'm ready to ask Felicity to marry me?"

Diggle smiled, touched by the vulnerable sincerity he could hear in Oliver's voice. "No," he said evenly, "that's not so bad." Diggle inclined his head a little towards the jewelers. "Guess we're going ring shopping."

Oliver grinned. "Just to look. Probably won't find anything, but it doesn't hurt to look, right?"

"Right."

Oliver looked at the coffee in his hand. "We'd better finish these quickly. There is no food or drink allowed in the shop."

"Oliver, you're a billionaire looking to drop serious coin in their shop," said Diggle wryly. "I don't think they'd care if you walked in there sucking down a turducken with a chaser of roasted pig, washed down with a keg of gravy."

Oliver's lips twitched. "You're still hungry, aren't you?"

"So hungry," agreed Diggle without hesitation. That sandwich just hadn't cut it.

"Felicity wants onion blossoms and pie, you want a turkey being violated by a duck, who is being violated by a chicken…"

"Never write menus for a restaurant," said Diggle in amusement. "Miniature golf isn't the only thing you suck at."

"My point is half my crew seems to be starving all the time." He arched an eyebrow. "I do pay you enough money to buy food, right?"

"I'm a growing boy… we need a lot of food."

Oliver looked him over skeptically. "Just how much bigger are you planning on getting? You're already the size of a house, two stories at least."

"There's always room for an extension," deadpanned Diggle.

"If Bunny was here, he'd be all over that remark," noted Oliver in vague amusement.

"Lucky for us both that he isn't then, hmm?" Diggle inclined his head towards the jewelry shop. "Shall we?"

Oliver looked at the row of rings in the window, and gave a definite nod of his head. "Absolutely." He headed inside, Diggle following behind, unable to help his smile. There had been days he despaired of Oliver ever getting his head out of his confused ass long enough to realize what he had in Felicity. So much guilt and shame had informed Oliver's every move since returning to Starling City that Diggle wasn't always certain that Oliver would be able to get past that, and actually dare to dream of a life of his own. As he followed his friend into that shop, Diggle couldn't help be very glad things were turning out as they were. At long last Oliver was coming home, now that he'd finally worked out exactly where and who that was.

**A/N****: So Oliver is looking to put a ring on it! Like there was any doubt about that, but now he might actually have the ring… all he needs is the willing finger… and of course, good timing. I wonder if one of those things is going to be an issue… hmm… quite possibly. ;) **

**Okay, I'm off on my trip, wish me happy trails and to be blessed by a sense of direction before I set out… better late than never, I guess. **


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N****: Hi guys, yes, I'm back from all of my travels, suitably exhausted. I had something pretty sad happen to me on my way back. My darling little silky terrier, Mabel, my 16 year old princess passed away on the day I was due to drive back home a couple of days ago. It wasn't unexpected, she'd been fading all week and she ended up dying in my arms. It was the best kind of passing I could have hoped for my little girl, but after having had her for 16 years, since she was 6 weeks old, she's left a huge hole behind her, despite her tiny size. It's the brutal sadness of pets that they just don't live as long as us as a rule. My other puppy, Pearl, is missing her, so we're both being sad together. There's been a lot of tears… mainly from me. Pearl is more of the strong, silent type. **

**Wow, opened this chapter with somewhat of a downer, sorry about that. Just wanted to explain why I'm possibly a little subpar in my a/n's today… and possibly for a little while to come. **

**I've also had computer issues… I had my computer in being fixed and they wiped everything, so I'm trying to get it back to how it was… with mixed results. Still working on all of that. But, the good news is that I didn't lose my story. Honestly, if I had, I probably would have lost my mind this week. It wouldn't have been pretty and I probably would have just given up on this story. I couldn't have lost over half my story and just rewritten it – it'd just be too much. But, fortunately, that didn't happen, so it's on with the show, I guess. I hope you all remember where we're up to. I must confess I had to go back and check. Basically my mind is mush these days, between work, home and life and general. It's not a good look on me – mush brain – but then a great deal of things don't look good on me, so I guess it's in good company. **

**I'm rambling, and even I'm not sure where this is going – so I'm just going to let you read the chapter. That seems like the best plan for now. See you at the end for a quick chat… :D **

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Oliver grunted loudly as hammered away at the large tractor tire with his mallet. He'd worked up quite a sweat, which he was forced to blink out of his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Bunny sitting on a chair, legs crossed, sipping on some kind of drink from a martini glass, and watching him intently. Oliver glanced at the clock on the wall, knowing his work out was done. He jumped down from the tire, and walked over to grab a towel, which he wiped down his dripping torso and face with.

"I really wonder what I used to do with my evenings before taking up residence in your little cave," remarked Bunny idly. "Whatever it was, it feels like a complete waste of my time now that I can have Oliver-vision right there in front of me between seven and eight every night."

Oliver let the towel drop from his face, but threw it carelessly over his neck. "Can you seriously not find anything else to do when I'm working out?" he grumbled.

"Nothing quite as edifying, no," said Bunny cheerfully. He winked at Oliver, and took a sip of his drink. "What's the matter, monkey, am I not the one you're hoping to grab the attention of with all of that heaving male flesh?"

Oliver couldn't help his gaze stray over to the back room where Felicity had secreted herself off to as soon as she got there, mumbling about putting some finishing touches on the suit. She'd been completely absorbed in there ever since. "I don't know what you're talking about," said Oliver, dragging his gaze back to Bunny.

"Oh yes," said Bunny laconically, "clearly you're not bothered at all that our little poppet wasn't witness to all your overt manliness."

"I don't work out to impress Felicity," said Oliver shortly. Although, if that was a byproduct of his fitness regime, he was totally okay with that.

"Mmhm," said Bunny, sounding anything but convinced. "Don't worry, darling, I was impressed enough for both of us tonight. You certainly did work up a sweat. One wonders where you find the energy to now go out on the streets and fight all that crime."

"I have a lot of stamina."

"Oh, I can't tell you how much I love hearing that," said Bunny, fluttering his eyelashes at Oliver.

Oliver rolled his eyes but didn't comment.

Felicity appeared in the doorway, her head buried in her tablet as she hurried back into the room. "Sorry, didn't realize the time. I was just trying to solve that last little heating problem with the suit. I'm almost there, but there are still patches that—arrggh!" Felicity let out a little scream as she walked directly into the tire in the middle of the room without seeing it. She tumbled head first into the middle of it, throwing her tablet up into the air as she went.

Oliver was too far away to save her, but he deftly caught the tablet in one hand as he rushed to her aid. "Felicity! Are you alright?" He was immediately jumping into the tire, and helping a dazed looking Felicity to her feet.

"Oh poppet," said Bunny, also jumping to his feet in concern.

"You were doing your tire work out," she said, putting a shaking hand to straighten her askew glasses. "Is it Friday? Have I just lost a couple of days?"

"No, it's only Tuesday," said Oliver, checking her over worriedly. "Are you sure you're okay? Does it hurt anywhere?"

"It can't be Tuesday," said Felicity unsteadily. "Friday is tire workout night."

"I changed my routine."

Felicity looked at him blankly, as though he'd just announced he'd bought a Tyrannosaurus Rex or something. "But you don't change your routine," she said, still looking very confused.

"Yes, I do," said Oliver a little stiffly.

"No, you don't."

"On occasion."

"What occasion?"

"Well… this one to start with."

Felicity was looking up at him with real concern. "Um… okay."

"It's not a big deal," protested Oliver. Was he really this entrenched in his ways?

Felicity rubbed her leg. "Tell my shins that."

"I'm so sorry," said Oliver unhappily. "I just figured you see the giant tire in the middle of the room. You know… because it's a tire… a giant one… in the middle of the room."

"But it's Tuesday, and there usually isn't a tire, giant or otherwise in the middle of the room." She took her tablet back off him. "Good hands, by the way."

"I'd rather have caught you," said Oliver, still annoyed at himself that he hadn't been able to.

"The tablet is more important," said Felicity dismissively as she turned her attention back to it, and continued on her way to her desk, this time carefully circumventing the tire. "It's got all the specs for the suit on it." She sent Oliver a regretful look. "It's not quite ready. I'll need another day or two on it. Sorry."

"It's fine, Felicity. I've survived this long without a suit. Another couple of nights aren't going to be a problem."

"I'd just like to know you're as safe as you possibly can be out there," she fretted. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"It won't," said Oliver easily. He crossed to where she was standing and put a hand on her back. "I promise." Oliver leaned in and gave her a quick kiss.

"Young love is just so adorable," sighed Bunny.

Oliver turned his head to see Bunny giving them both a sappy smile, a hand over his heart.

"Is there any chance we can have some privacy here?" asked Oliver with some irritation.

"No," sighed Bunny, with exactly the same expression.

"Ignore him, Bunny," said Felicity. "Oliver's always just a little tense before he goes out on the street."

"No, I'm not," said Oliver quickly.

"So, it's just me then," said Felicity with a half-smile.

Oliver put a concerned hands on her arms. "I don't want you to worry about me, Felicity," he said sincerely.

"Sometimes you're an idiot, Oliver Queen," said Felicity in exasperation. "Of course I'm going to worry about you… and Diggle, and Roy. You're not exactly suiting up to join a knitting group. I have a right to worry."

Oliver frowned, not knowing how exactly to address her concerns. "We know what we're doing, Felicity. It's as safe as it can be."

"I know that… but it's not that safe. It's okay, this isn't exactly my first day on the job, I know how to worry and still get my part in this team done."

Oliver grimaced. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be crazy. I know you're not doing it intentionally. You've got nothing to apologize for."

Even so Oliver wished he wasn't causing Felicity to worry over him, but it felt really good to know that she did… which made him feel guilty. Sometimes his feelings about Felicity turned him all around in his head.

"I'm here," announced Roy, suddenly appearing at the top of the stairs, two pizza boxes in his hand as he trotted down the stairs. "Just stopped off for a snack before we hit the streets." He opened the top pizza box as he got to the bottom, and fished out a slice, not standing on ceremony. Roy shoved a piece into his mouth, still walking into the room, pizza lid flapping in front of him. "Is Digg— arckk!"

Before anyone could warn him, Roy had done exactly as Felicity had only minutes before and careered directly into the tire. He lurched forward, the pizzas flying out of his hand, and this time it was Ladybug to the rescue. The Newfoundland launched himself from where he'd been curled up on his bed and grabbed one of the pizzas in midflight. It only took three gulps and the pizza's fate was sealed.

"What the hell?" squawked Roy as he attempted to untangle himself from the tire. He righted himself, and looked down at the thing in confusion. "Wait a minute… is it Friday already?"

"No," said Oliver in exasperation, "it's Tuesday."

"But you're doing the tire thing," said Roy, looking at him quizzically. "You do the tire thing on Fridays."

"So, I'm mixing it up a bit," said Oliver defensively.

Roy looked at Felicity. "What's happening? What's going on?"

Felicity shrugged. "I don't know. I guess Oliver is wanting to mix things up a bit, like he said."

Roy lowered his voice, looking worried now. "But it's Oliver, he doesn't do that. He doesn't like change."

"I'm fine with change," proclaimed Oliver loudly.

"Does the mean you're ready to welcome me into your cave with open arms now?" asked Bunny brightly.

"Change for the better," said Oliver sharply, "and stop calling it a cave."

"But the Arrow cave has such a ring to it, darling… or maybe a den, how does the Arrow den sound?"

"Like it's not your call to make," said Oliver shortly.

"Mm," murmured Bunny, sending the others knowing looks. "Not good with change at all."

"I'm fine with change!" Oliver waved his hand at the tapestry currently adorning one of his walls. "I haven't said a single thing about that unnecessary thing hanging on my wall, have I? And you know why… because I'm fine with change, that's why!"

Roy did a comical double take, looking up at the large wall hanging. "Oh wow," he said loudly, "when did that get there? This is the first time I am seeing this, the absolute first time, and I'm as outraged as you are, Oliver, that someone could defile the Arrow Cave like this."

Oliver gave a grunt. "Give it up, Harper, I know you had to have hung it up there."

Roy's outrage was vast and overacted. "How dare you? Like I'm some idiot who could be talked into doing anything just because they talked fast and tried to grab my ass a couple of times."

"And in the meantime, I've got this monstrosity nailed to a perfectly good wall," said an irritated Oliver.

Bunny gave Roy an indulgent look. "I didn't try and grab anything, my darling. They were playful cuffs, you know, like men do when they play sport together."

"We weren't playing sport," said Roy tersely.

"I don't know where you're going with that remark," Bunny waved him off blithely as he turned his attention to Oliver. "And that hanging is anything but a monstrosity. It's Italian, one of a kind, and absolutely gorgeous. That wall was crying out for a little color and movement, and now it has it." His look became pointed. "You're welcome."

"I'm not thanking you for something I didn't want in the first place," said Oliver hotly.

"Because of your aversion to change thing," said Bunny knowingly.

"I'm fine with change!"

"What's all the shouting?" asked Diggle as he walked in from the side door.

"Look out for the tire!" chorused everyone at once.

Diggle stopped walking and arched an eyebrow, looking down at the tire in question. "You mean the enormous, completely obvious tire in the middle of the room? Is that the tire I'm meant to be looking out for?"

"Yes," said Felicity, pulling a face as she rubbed her shins again, "there have been a couple of workplace incidents already because of it."

"Right, because it's not Friday." Diggle gave Oliver an amused look. "Changing your routine, hmm? Wonder why that is?" He glanced up at the wall. "Nice wall hanging. What is that… Italian?"

"Apparently," muttered Oliver, "And I changed my routine because I don't have an issue with it." He knew Diggle was thinking about their earlier conversation. Oliver refused to believe he was as set in his ways as everyone was trying to make out. He was a flexible guy, he just knew it. "And I'm not the one who doesn't seem to be able to cope with change." He looked at the others. "They're the ones falling all over the place."

"It's not about coping," said Felicity. "It was just unexpected, that's all."

"And I lost a pizza because of it," grumbled Roy as he retrieved the other pizza box. He side eyed Ladybug who was still licking his lips. "I hope those anchovies give you heartburn. Now I'm going to be starving out on patrol." Ladybug didn't look particularly moved by Roy's plight.

"You still have an entire pizza to yourself," said Oliver. "Seriously, just how much food do you people need to sustain yourselves?"

"That reminds me," said Bunny blithely, "could one of you lovely boys pick me up some more olives for my nightly martinis? I'm down to my last two olives, and I like my martinis like my men… as dirty as possible." He winked at the men in the room. "In case you were wondering."

"We weren't," said Roy flatly.

"Your continuing resistance only makes me want you more, kitten," cooed Bunny. "I love the chase."

"You can chase all you want," said Roy determinedly. "You're going to catch squat."

Bunny just shrugged. "Never say never."

"That's true, Roy," said Felicity teasingly. "I never thought Oliver and I would happen. You just never know."

Oliver looked at her intently. "Did you really not think we'd ever happen?"

"Well… you spent a lot of time dating other women. That's kind of a dampener on a girl's happily ever after fantasies. Prince Charming was never rocking the Kasbah with the Little Mermaid while Cinderella darned socks… or set up intricate computer systems."

"But I haven't dated anyone for a long time now," said Oliver quickly. "There is only you, Felicity."

"I know," said Felicity. "That wasn't my point."

"No, your point was to jerk my chain when it comes to being seduced by an older man over to the dark side," said an annoyed Roy. "And it's not funny."

"It's a little bit funny," said Felicity with a grin.

"Agreed," smiled Diggle, "it's a little bit funny."

"I get no respect around this place," muttered Roy. He consoled himself with a piece of pizza.

"Okay, coms checks," announced Felicity. "We have to keep this patrol tight tonight. Roy, you're still going out after the dentist tonight?"

"Yeah," said Roy as he put his earpiece in. "We need to find this Ross guy so I can start spending some nights at home with Thea. She's starting to get suspicious about how many nights I spend away from her. I think she thinks I've got someone on the side, which is crazy."

"I'll tell her you're with me," offered Oliver.

"Yeah, because that's less weird," said Roy in exasperation. "Sometimes I think it'd be a lot easier if Thea just knew about Team Arrow."

"It's not easier if it puts her in danger," said Oliver sharply. "Thea can't know about what we're doing down here… ever."

"Unclench," said Roy. "I didn't say I was going to tell her. Just that it'd be easier not to have to lie to her quite as much as I do. I hate doing that."

"It's a necessary evil," said Oliver firmly. "I hate the lying too, but enough people that I care about are involved in this thing I started. I want Thea as far away from it as possible."

"Which isn't that far considering her brother and boyfriend are up to their neck in it," pointed out Felicity.

Oliver frowned at her. "You think I'm wrong in not wanting Thea to know about what we're doing here?"

"I think you're being overly optimistic in hoping that she'll never find out," said Felicity evenly. "That day is going to come, Oliver, it just is. Thea will find out, one way or the other, and I can't help but feel it'd be better coming from you."

"I don't want Thea involved," said Oliver in distress.

"She already is," said Felicity softly, "by default." She rubbed his arm. "It's okay, it's not a problem we have to deal with today. I'm just floating it by you, so you can give it a bit of thought and won't be caught off-guard when it does happen."

The way Felicity had so effortlessly said 'we' when talking about the concept of Thea finding out about their nighttime activities actually made Oliver feel a little bit better about a situation he just wasn't ready to face right then. Knowing Felicity was on his side, no matter what, made everything feel a lot less daunting, even the thought of Thea being involved in this dangerous world he was immersed in.

"Felicity's right," said Diggle. "The Thea thing is an issue for another day. Right now we have some patrolling to do, and the flushing out of some unsavory characters."

Oliver could get behind that, particularly if it meant it got him closer to his date with Felicity that night. "Alright," he said firmly, heading for his suit. "Let's do this already."

**#**

Roy crouched down on the rooftop, eyes narrowing as he took in the movement going on in the street below. With their initial patrolling finishing up early that night, he'd been able to move onto the stake out at Geoffrey Dahmer, the dentist. "There is definitely something going on," he said in a low voice into his coms.

"Just hang back until you know what it is," Diggle's voice ordered him. "And try not to kill anyone in the process."

"I haven't killed anyone," said Roy in agitation. "Stop saying that."

"We wouldn't even be here if the Mariner wasn't dead," argued Diggle.

"Yeah, but I didn't kill him. Frozen chickens, remember? It was a freak accident."

"Freak accidents you seem to be in the middle of on a regular basis."

"That's not my fault!"

"Tell the broom guy that, or crazy French bitch."

"Gravity took both of those people out! And inertia took out the Mariner."

"Inertia?"

"Resistance of a body to any change in its state of motion."

"I know what inertia is."

"Yeah, well, the van stopped, the frozen chickens didn't because of inertia. So, technically, physics killed Albert Ross."

"You should absolutely open with that if you find his brother tonight. I'm sure that will change Ross Ross' plans to kill Bunny horribly in a heartbeat."

"You're being sarcastic, but maybe it will. You don't know."

"We're talking about a guy who includes humans on his catalog of acceptable big game hunts, and that's before we talk about his cannibalistic bestie. I don't think a discourse on the laws of physics is going to sway the guy on wanting to put a bullet between Bunny's eyes… or anyone else who gets in his way."

"Your pep talks need more pep," said Roy darkly.

"I'm not here to hold your hand—"

"I'll hold anything you like, darling!" called out Bunny in the background.

"I'm here to try and make sure you stay alive," continued on Diggle, ignoring the other man.

"I can take care of myself," huffed Roy. "I did just fine before you and Oliver came into my life. I don't need babysitters." He watched more people making their way into the back of the dentist's building. "Okay, I've got to get closer. There is definitely something going on down there." Roy grimaced. "Maybe the dentist is putting together a hunting party with friends. A lot of them seem to be carrying bags of some description, pretty big ones."

"As in gun bags?"

"I don't know, I'm too far away to make it out in the dark. Like I said, I have to get closer."

"Be careful, kitten," said a concerned sounding Bunny. "I want you back in one delicious piece."

"Could you please not call me delicious when I'm potentially walking into a place with a cannibal in it?" asked Roy unhappily as he lithely scaled down the wall of the building, landing in the alleyway across from the back entrance to the dentist's surgery.

"Sorry, my love."

"And the cannibal thing is just a rumor," said Diggle. "We don't know if it's true or not."

"Actually," said Bunny in a low voice, "I did business with this man once who said he saw this South African guy torture a man, and then eat his foot. I can't help but feel like it was our Mr. Gutz… unless there is more than one South African cannibal out there, which is rather a disheartening thought. As though that poor country doesn't have enough issues."

"You know the coms are open, right?" asked Roy in exasperation. "I can hear what you're saying, Bunny."

"Oh, sorry, kitten, just pretend I didn't say a thing."

"Oh yeah, because a story about one guy eating another guy's foot isn't something which stays with you." Roy peered out from the alleyway, able to have a better view now. "They've got some heavy security on the door. Looks like people are showing some kind of pass to get in."

"There is only the back entrance into the surgery," Diggle informed him. "The front has a complicated alarm system. You'll never get by it without setting it off."

"So, back door entry is my only choice… shut up, Bunny," said Roy sharply.

"What?" asked Bunny innocently. "I wasn't going to say a word."

"Unlikely."

"What are they carrying?" asked Diggle. "Can you see more clearly? Do they look like they could be gun bags?"

"Maybe," said Roy hesitantly. "I still can't tell. I need to get in there." He pulled his hood up, and ducked his head down. "I'm going to try and infiltrate… shut up, Bunny." Roy shoved his hands in his pockets and headed down the street. "They mostly seem to be young guys. I just need one of those passes." A block away, he saw another man heading the opposite way, tote bag slung over his shoulder. Roy saw the flash of the white pass clutched in one hand. He waited until the guy had walked by him before surreptitiously turning around, and crossing over to the same side of the street. Roy came up behind the man, knocking him out and dragging him into the alleyway in one swift move. He quickly grabbed the pass and the bag, stepping out of the shadows and moving towards the dentist's surgery. "I'm going in," he murmured in a low voice.

"Be careful," fretted Bunny.

"Don't kill anyone," instructed Diggle.

"Bite me," said Roy under his breath to the other man, and then he was standing in front of the two men running the door. He gave a curt nod of his head as he handed over the pass, which they returned. One of the men scanned the card, and then Roy was granted access. Roy headed down a dark corridor, body tense as he walked into the unknown.

"What's happening?" asked Diggle. "What do you see?"

"Nothing yet," whispered Roy. "I'm still in a corridor." A swinging door loomed large in front of him and threw the frosted glass of the inlaid windows, he could see the group of men congregating. "Okay, this is it. I'm going in." Roy squared his shoulders, his stride becoming more determined as he headed towards what was potentially a human hunting party with cannibalistic overtones, confident he was ready for anything. He pushed his way through the swinging doors, and came to an abrupt halt at the sight which confronted him. All the blood drained from his face.

Okay, he was wrong… he was not ready for this… this was a nightmare nobody could prepare for.

Roy turned abruptly around, knowing he had to get out of there, but the two large men from the alleyway were locking the door. They folded their arms in front of their huge chests, standing guard. There was no way out. Roy's eyes went wide. He was trapped. Roy's hand tightened on the bag he was holding, trying not to panic…

**A/N****: Okay, so see, probably just as well I didn't leave you with this chapter before I headed off on my travels – it's a cliff hanger and you would have been hanging for over a week, which would have been annoying… more annoying than just a straight out cliff hanger that is. What could have Roy possibly walked in on? I can confidently predict no one will get it in a million years. Just like Roy, there is no way for you guys to prepare for this… so just assume the crash position and know that this story is going to start to rack up a body count at some point… possibly this point… but I'm neither confirming or denying that rumor… the rumor I just started myself… so, you know, consider the source on that one. **

**Sidebar… I'm considering putting in spoilers for the next chapter at the end of each chapter – just a little bit of the next chapter as a tease. I can't decide if it'd add to the interest of the story, or take away from it… or do neither. What are your feelings on that one? Can't decide what to do… **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N****: Thank you all for your welcomes back and condolences about my little Mabel. You're all very sweet. 3**

**Work has been brutal as expected this week, and I'm working the weekend but I'm still hoping to do an update during the weekend at some point. Watch this space. ;) **

**As for life in general – it's raining here… a lot… finally. Man, there is nothing sadder than living in the wet tropics without the wet. Lawns were going brown – that's just not right. Of course, now we're getting so much rain the earth can't suck it up quickly enough. Hank doesn't do well in the wet weather. When his fur gets wet he goes kinda insane – you know, like kids in a school yard when it rains. He's currently running with scissors AND sitting too close to the TV – yep, Hank's living on the edge. **

**And they're my good scissors. **

**Did you guys have that in your house growing up – the good scissors. You'd need scissors to do something for school or what not, and your mother's disembodied voice would find you wherever you were… 'You're not using the **_**good**_** scissors, are you?' she'd demand to know. Apparently the good scissors weren't for cutting paper with… not sure what they were used for though. The answer to that question was always steeped in adult mystery that I never got around to finding out. Plus, the existence of 'good' scissors, always made me think about the reality of 'bad' scissors, and what that might entail. I kind of envisage 'bad' scissors hanging out late at night on poorly lit street corners, smoking and just generally skulking about. I'm not going to lie, I gave that scenario way more thought than was probably healthy for an nine year old at the time. **

**But yes, Hank is going a little stir crazy cooped up inside and I won't let him go outside because there is nothing worse than your house smelling of wet brain monkey. Ugh. Except for maybe tripe being boiled on the stove – not a huge fan of that either… or pig trotters being boiled in a pot – flashback to when our Pop used to live with us. Ahh, sweetbreads, was there ever a more disappointing and misleading name for a type of food created? Sooo not what the name suggests, but I guess crap left over bits of a dead animal doesn't have the same ring to it (and yes, I know pig trotters aren't technically sweetbreads, but I classify them under the banner of food I will never willingly eat in my life). **

**But enough of my culinary bigotry, you all came here to be entertained. Let's see what I can do about that, eh? **

**Before plunging into the next chapter, thank you to everyone who voted on the spoiler/preview thought. I think I'll give it a go for a couple of chapters (giving people who don't want to read them plenty of warning so they don't have to) and just see how it goes. The other alternative could be instead of actual scenes, I could just post a little summary of the next chapter, like the show does, to tease upcoming scenes. I'm still in pondering mode over all of this. I'll just see where it all takes me… possibly back to doing no kind of tease at all. Lol **

**But in the meantime, I kind of left you guys hanging last chapter and I'm guessing you want to know what's happening with Roy. BTW, I enjoyed your guesses – seems like you're all as weird as I am… awesome! :D And so, here is the chapter…**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Claire glanced up at the clock on the wall and let out a sigh of relief. It was finally midnight and she could get out of here. Her job working in reception at the Barrett Hotel was boring and badly underpaid, but it did mean she had time to study, so there was that. She looked up as one of the residents of the hotel walked into the foyer. Claire smiled, quickly tucking a wayward strand of auburn hair behind her ears, and straightened her blouse. "Hi Felix," she called out as the young man headed towards the stairs. Felix stopped and looked down at her unblinkingly from the first step of the stairs. "Been out seeing the sights, have you?"

He blinked, once. "Yes."

Claire walked around the desk and over to the bottom of the stairs, still smiling up at him. "You know, if you're looking for a guide to the city, I was born here. I could show you around." Felix didn't say anything, just continued to stare at her. Claire fidgeted on the spot, suddenly feeling a little awkward. "You know, if you wanted me to. No big deal."

"Yes."

Claire grinned. Cute young men didn't normally frequent this particular hotel. Sometimes it paid off to take a chance. Besides, it had been two months since she'd gotten rid of that loser Craig. It was time to dip her toe in the dating pool again, and Felix seemed like a sweet guy. "Okay, awesome. I'll see you tomorrow I guess then, and we can talk about the kinds of places you might like to go."

"Okay."

Felix put his hand on the bannister, and went to continue up the stairs, but a flash of red caught Claire's gaze. "You've got blood on you," she noted in concern.

Felix looked down at his hand which was still resting on the bannister rail, taking in the red streak on his sleeve. "Nose bleed."

"Oh, that's no good," said Claire sympathetically. "Do you need me to get you anything?"

"No… thank you."

"Okay, well, sleep tight."

Felix smiled at her. "You too."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite." Claire bit her bottom lip. "We don't have bedbugs," she said hastily. _Not anymore, anyways._

Felix didn't respond, just started up the stairs.

Claire turned around, and went to collect her bag and laptop. "Not too bad, Claire," she congratulated herself. "Pretty smooth… except for the bed bugs thing. That wasn't great." Still, she had a sort of date with a cute guy tomorrow… and hopefully Craig was currently being struck down by some kind of rampant painful testicular infection. A girl could only hope.

**#**

Oliver slipped his hand into Felicity's and smiled down at her lovingly as he helped her out of the car.

"You know, you really don't have to walk me to my door." Her returned smile told Oliver she was glad he was though.

"I pride myself on offering a full service date to all of my—" Oliver stopped sharply. Damn it, why did he have to bring up other women? What was wrong with him? "To you, only for you."

"It's fine, Oliver," said Felicity indulgently. "I know you dated other women. Trust me, I know."

Oliver was still a little worried about their earlier conversation. "But you also know I'm only interested in one woman now, don't you?" he pushed. _Or ever again._ Oliver kept that last tidbit to himself, not sure Felicity was quite ready to believe that from him yet.

"I'm not worried about you and other women," said Felicity easily, as they climbed the couple of stairs to her front porch. "I wouldn't be with you if I thought otherwise. I've told you that before."

"Good," said Oliver in relief, "because you have absolutely nothing to worry about when it comes to other women, less than nothing in fact."

"Less than nothing," mused Felicity. "That's a lot of nothing."

Oliver glanced her way, trying to make sure Felicity was as unconcerned as she was making out. She smiled back at him, and Oliver couldn't see anything other than trust on her gorgeous face. He relaxed the tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding. They were standing at her door now, but Oliver refused to let go of her hand.

"We made it safely to my door," said Felicity, smiling up at him. "Your duty as a courteous date is now discharged."

"I should really come in and check inside," said Oliver with great seriousness. "You know, just to be sure."

Felicity tilted her head. "I guess you could come in and make sure Spartacus hasn't taken over the place while I was out."

Oliver gave an eager nod of his head. "Absolutely. Wait, who's Spartacus again?"

"My giant squirrel with the toilet water fetish."

"Oh right, him."

Felicity arched an eyebrow. "You don't think he's real, do you?"

"Sweetheart, if you tell me you have a sumo squirrel who periodically breaks into your house and drinks from the toilet bowl… why would I have any reason to disbelieve you?"

Felicity dropped his hand, and folded her arms in front of her chest. "You think I'm imagining Spartacus' nighttime activities, don't you?"

"No," said Oliver quickly… too quickly.

"He's real."

"I'm not arguing with you."

"I'm not making it up."

"Again, still not arguing with you."

"Mm," said an unconvinced Felicity, "it's the way you're agreeing with me. It's deeply suspicious and has tones of patronizing indulgence."

"Felicity," said Oliver sincerely, "I'm completely onboard with Spartacus the toilet water swilling sumo squirrel." He placed his hand on his heart. "And to prove it, I insist you let me come in to make sure your house is safe from squirrels dripping toilet water everywhere."

"Squirrel, there is only one… even though he's big enough for it to be more like three squirrels taped together."

Oliver felt his world tilting a little as they discussed giant squirrels. He knew this sensation well by now. It was the feeling of him falling even more under Felicity's spell. She had him entranced, and every minute he spent with her had Oliver tumbling more into love with her. It was an amazing feeling and one he couldn't get enough of.

"Although what person in their right mind would tape squirrels together?" Felicity cocked her head. "I guess I answered my own question – you wouldn't be in your right mind."

"So, do I get to come in and do my squirrel sweep?" asked Oliver. He didn't want to leave her at the doorstep. He needed more of his fix of Felicity Smoak.

"Okay, as long as you don't hurt Spartacus if you do find him." Felicity turned and put her key in the lock.

Oliver came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I promise, no squirrels will be harmed in the making of this date."

Felicity relaxed back into him as she turned the doorknob. "That's good to know."

Oliver didn't let go of her as they walked into her house together. Instead, Oliver only loosened his embrace of Felicity briefly, so he could turn her around in his arms and kiss her deeply.

"Your method for checking for squirrels seems a little flawed," said Felicity breathlessly when Oliver finally broke the kiss.

"Don't question my squirrel checking methods," said Oliver, eyes not leaving her lips. "They're tried and tested."

"Really?"

"Yes, I'm greatly feared amongst the squirrel community."

Felicity giggled. "Do you swing into their trees and tell them they've failed the city?"

"When the occasion calls for it," said a straight faced Oliver.

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck. "Wow, you really have got this hero business covered, haven't you?"

"So covered," agreed Oliver readily, moving in to kiss her again. Their kisses quickly spiraled out of control. His hands moved to Felicity's backside, and then Oliver was picking her up, enjoying the way she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist. The delicate scent of Felicity which was always teasing his senses burst into full life. Oliver was giddy with the taste and smell of her. His hands tightened on her bottom, eager for more, but not trusting his legs quite then. Felicity had his head spinning, and the last thing he wanted to do was drop her. Without breaking the kiss he walked them over to the sofa and sat down. Felicity was now straddling his lap, returning his kisses eagerly. Oliver pushed the material of her skirt up, fingers sliding up under the thin material of her underwear. Felicity gave a little shudder, her core moving involuntarily against his growing hardness. "Felicity," he groaned achingly into their kiss.

Felicity's hands were buried in his hair, and she broke the kiss to look intently down at him. She held his gaze steadily, and then very slowly, very deliberately repeated the action.

"Oh God!" he gasped, amazed by the sharp flood of sensations throughout his entire body at such a small action. Oliver's hands tightened on Felicity's bare backside at the intense fissures of pleasure. He'd never waited this long for a woman, and his ability to keep himself in check was rapidly slipping, particularly if she did that wiggle thing again. Felicity seemed to be able to read his mind in that minute as she repeated that slow, grinding motion once more. Oliver drew in a strangled breath, and actually felt his eyes roll back in his head. He arched his head back against the sofa pillows, feeling a fine sweat break out on his forehead. With his eyes still closed, Oliver felt Felicity begin to slowly move up and down on him, her hips rolling in his hands. Oliver pressed her harder down onto him, but she resisted, keeping their contact provocatively light. He wanted to scream at her delicate teasing, not wanting it to end, but needing more at the same time.

Felicity's hot breath was in his ear. "I like making you sweat," she whispered in his ear.

An almost violent shudder wracked Oliver's body at her breathy confession. Their make out sessions were getting more intense, and Felicity seemed as caught up in the moment as he was right then. Oliver knew he shouldn't take advantage, but he couldn't help himself. He flipped Felicity around so she was lying down on the sofa, and Oliver immediately covered her body with his, grinding himself hard between her legs. The contact was so excruciatingly pleasurable, Oliver couldn't stop himself from repeating the action. Felicity let a little moan out from underneath him and Oliver was assaulted with the smell of her arousal. It was the headiest scent. He was instantly drunk on it, on her. Oliver knew Felicity wasn't a fan of his heightened olfactory senses post his run in with the XR-320 when it came to her, but Oliver loved it. It was another way to experience her, like another color in his Felicity rainbow and it was amazing.

Felicity's hands were pulling his shirt out from his trousers now, then moving up to rake her nails down his back. More fissures of pleasure assaulted his every nerve ending. Oliver buried his head in her neck, hungry mouth nibbling on the delicate flesh. His hand found its way up under her blouse, impatient fingers pushing Felicity's bra out of the way, and then his palm was cupping her naked flesh. Felicity cried out, arching her back into his touch, and Oliver almost came on the spot, like some ridiculous oversexed teenager. He willed himself to calm down but even so, he needed to see the treasure he'd just unearthed. Oliver wanted to see for himself the softness molding perfectly into his hand. His whole body was throbbing, and he could feel himself losing more and more control. "Felicity," he grunted raggedly, hungry mouth dragging its way across her flushed skin. "God, but I want you so much." The physical ache for her was beyond painful.

"Oliver," she whimpered, hand tightening his hair.

She wasn't stopping him, and Oliver was beyond stopping himself. He needed this too much, needed her too much. His lips skimmed across Felicity's pert nipple, making her give a hiss, tensing under him. Oliver could see the goose bumps rise on her skin in response to his light touch. His tongue came out, teasing the bud into greater tightness, causing another whimper from Felicity. Oliver was completely undone. His mouth found her nipple properly, tongue slavishly lapping at the peak, wanting to elicit more of those noises from Felicity. Oliver's heart was beating so loudly in his chest, blood roaring in his ears, nearly deafened by his own intense excitement. So much so he almost didn't hear Felicity's panted direction.

"Ph-phone," she said breathlessly. When Oliver didn't immediately respond, his attention only on exploring more of her delicious body. Felicity's hand tugged on his short hair. "Phone," she said more loudly.

Oliver reluctantly lifted his head, eyes glazed with desire. "What?" he mumbled.

"Your phone," said Felicity shakily, looking as overwhelmed as felt. "It's ringing."

Oliver blinked rapidly, and realized she was right. That incessant buzzing wasn't only in his ears, it was also in his pants' pocket. He made a guttural sound of annoyance, and grabbed for the intrusion with a hand which would rather have been doing something else right then. "What?" he snapped into the phone and then couldn't not be kissing Felicity anymore. He hungrily found her lips with his own, demanding entry into the sweetness he knew lay within.

"Oliver, it's Diggle, we've got a problem."

Oliver gave a frustrated groan, not really wanting to hear about problems right then. Was it really too much to ask for one night off?

**#**

Detective Lance sighed heavily and ran his hand through his graying hair. He needed a haircut and something to eat. And some sleep. Not necessarily in that order. He looked at the body lying in the gutter in front of him. "We got a time of death, Buck?" he grunted.

"It's fresh," said the forensic officer who was bent over the body. "No more than an hour. The blood has barely congealed."

The victim was wearing a red hoodie which was stained with a lot of darker red and pushed up to reveal some savage looking slice marks in his abdomen.

"The poor son of a bitch has been practically disemboweled," said Lance tightly.

"That isn't his only problem." Buck pushed back the hood of the man's sweats to reveal his bloodstained and mutilated face along with the gaping eye sockets that were minus eyes.

"Son of a bitch!" bit out Lance harshly.

Buck stood up. "Yeah, it's not pretty."

"I know him," ground out Lance.

"Hope he wasn't a close friend because the ending he got… it would have been not great."

Lance looked away and closed his eyes. Sometimes he hated this job.

"And not to be the guy with more bad news, but I've seen these mutilations before."

Lance opened his eyes and looked at the other man. "Don't say it."

"Sorry, Detective, they pay me to say it. I've seen pictures from the other morgues in Gotham and Central City who had bodies like this turn up. Either the Optometrist has a copycat or the guy has decided to check out the sights of our fair city."

"God damn it, Buck, I don't want to be dealing with a serial killer right now, copycat or not."

"Well, I don't want to be dealing with two ex-wives, but you know, shit happens."

Lance shook his head, and sighed heavily.

"Look on the bright side."

"There's a bright side?"

"Yeah, if you manage to solve this, you're one up on the flatfoots in Gotham and Central City. That's got to make you feel good, right?"

"And in the meantime, innocent people die," said Lance grimly.

Buck shrugged. "You can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs."

Lance just stared at him for that callous comment. "Ever think you may been doing your job for too long, Buck?"

"The thought has occurred." He shrugged again. "But what are you gonna do, right?"

Lance looked down at the mutilated corpse of the young man, jaw hardening. "Yeah, what are you gonna do?" he repeated harshly.

**A/N****: Okay, so yes, technically I've left you guys hanging again re: Roy's fate. But, on the upside – Olicity fun times… so, there is that, right? It says in the maniacal despot ruler's handbook that you should give your minions little rays of sunshine before torturing them mercilessly. Apparently it makes the torturing part more fun… for the despot, you understand, the minions, not so much. **

**Okay, this might be a good chapter to test that spoiler thing out on. Stop reading now if you don't want to know…**

**SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS **

"…_We've lost contact with Roy." _

_Diggle's tone was concerned, but Oliver barely registered it. Felicity's tongue was in his mouth. Thought processes were not an option right then. Oliver broke their kiss for the shortest time possible. "Roy who?" he mumbled before reclaiming Felicity's mouth. He was addicted, couldn't get enough of her. _

"_Harper, Roy Harper. You remember, the kid with the big mouth, likes the color red a lot, currently dating your sister. Went into check on the dentist and haven't heard from him in the last half hour…" _

**SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS **

See, doesn't having spoilers make you feel so much better? Yeah, that's what I thought. 0;)


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N****: *Insert witty A/N's here***

**I ran all my chatter out yesterday when I posted on Tumblr… sorry guys, I got nuthin`. There is the chapter, of course, so there is that. I'm actually really hungry, having just gotten home from work, so that's all I can really think about. If I did attempt an A/N's it'd mainly involve talk of meatballs with spiced apple and chicken wings. I'm not having either of those things to eat tonight, but I'd like to be. Oh well. The chapter, indulge yourselves while I fossick around in my pantry and find something (hopefully) edible. **

**Cheerio…**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

"We've lost contact with Roy."

Diggle's tone was concerned, but Oliver barely registered it. Felicity's tongue was in his mouth. Thought processes were not an option right then. Oliver broke their kiss for the shortest time possible. "Roy who?" he mumbled before reclaiming Felicity's mouth. He was addicted, couldn't get enough of her.

"Harper, Roy Harper. You remember, the kid with the big mouth, likes the color red a lot, currently dating your sister. Went into check on the dentist and haven't heard from him in the last half hour."

That broke through Oliver's haze of lust. He lifted his head, scowling fiercely. "What? What's happening?"

"Roy, dentist recon, no contact, half hour," repeated Diggle calmly. "Do you need me to wait a minute or two so at least some blood could return to your brain?"

Diggle obviously knew what had Oliver so distracted, or rather who.

Felicity propped herself up on her elbows, looking up at him in concern. "What's going on?" she whispered. "What's wrong?"

"There's a problem with Roy."

"Oh no!" gasped Felicity, instantly looking worried.

"I wanted to let you know I'm heading out there now," said Diggle. "Thought you should know—" He paused. "Wait a minute." There was the sound of Diggle talking, his voice low.

Felicity sat up more, face etched with concern. "Oliver, what's happening? Is Roy okay?"

Oliver lifted himself off her, sitting back in the corner of the sofa, an equally serious expression on his face. "I don't know. Diggle is talking to someone else right now."

"Is it Roy?"

"I don't know. I can't tell."

"We need to get over there," said Felicity, hastily straightening her clothing. "I knew you should have gone with him."

"Don't panic, Felicity. We don't know what's happening yet." Even as Oliver tried to be reassuring he was falling back into combat mode, ready for the word from Diggle to head out to help Roy.

"I know," she fretted, "that's the problem."

Diggle was back talking to him. "Okay, never mind. Roy's just checked in."

"What?" asked Oliver in disbelief.

"False alarm. Roy's checked in. Don't know what the issue was, he's not being very chatty but it's all good. Sorry, like I said, false alarm, go back to your evening."

Oliver's response was strangled at best. "Are you kidding me?"

Felicity was looking at him anxiously. "What's wrong? What's happened to Roy?"

"Nothing, he's fine," said Oliver flatly.

"Are you sure?"

"For the moment," said Oliver darkly. He could really have done without the interruption right then, particularly as Felicity seemed intent on getting dressed now. Damn it to hell! Roy and Diggle were not his favorite people right then.

"What a relief," sighed Felicity.

"Yeah, it's great," muttered Oliver.

"Gotta go," said Diggle and then just promptly hung up.

Oliver hung up his phone and shoved it back in his pocket, intent on recapturing the moment. "Now, where were we?" He moved to cover her body with his again, but Felicity held up a hasty hand.

"Getting carried away," she said quickly, cheeks heating with a beguiling blush.

"Oh yeah, that's right," said Oliver in satisfaction, moving to kiss her again.

Felicity turned her head at the last moment and his lips grazed her cheek instead. "So, it was good Diggle rang then," she said unsteadily.

"That was not the word I would have used," growled Oliver in frustration.

Felicity grimaced. "Oliver, I'm sorry. I don't mean to, you know, lead you on. I'm not trying to be a tease, but I still really need to take this thing a little bit slower."

There was so much vulnerability in Felicity's wavering request that it was hard not to melt into an acquiescing puddle at her feet. He gave a low groan and pressed his forehead against hers. "I'm not trying to rush you, Felicity, I'm really not. It's just that you're so damn sexy, and when I kiss you, I just want more and more."

"I know," she said breathlessly. "I have the same problem."

Oliver's eyes flared with renewed desire. "I want you, Felicity, more than I've wanted anyone or anything in my life."

She swallowed hard, and squeezed her eyes close. "Me too," she confessed shakily. Felicity opened her eyes again, a pleading look in her eyes. "I know you think I'm being crazy, sometimes I think I'm being crazy too—"

"I don't think you're crazy," said Oliver quickly. "I understand. I know you feel like being with me, like that… it's a risk. You think I'll break your heart like all the other women I've been with."

"It's not that simple, Oliver," she said huskily, putting a consoling hand to his chest. "I know that all relationships have an inherent risk of pain to them."

"Yeah, but the risk is greater with me, isn't it?" pushed Oliver solemnly.

Felicity's hand moved restlessly on his chest. "I just feel like there is more at stake for us. I can't lose you, and if we get this wrong, that could happen."

Oliver wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I've told you before, you're not going to lose me, Felicity. No matter what happens between us, how or when it happens, we're going to be alright."

She looked up at him with a wavering smile, cheek against his chest. "You're doing that optimistic thing again."

Oliver smiled. "Is it still unnerving you?"

"A little bit. I'm usually the optimistic one."

Oliver tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear tenderly. "So, maybe it's just my turn. Felicity, you've always been the hopeful one between the two of us… about everything. You deserve some kind of return for that investment. I can be the hopeful, optimistic one for a while until you're totally comfortable in joining me in my happy place."

Felicity gave a little laugh against his chest. "Who knew Oliver Queen would ever have a happy place?"

"I did, the first day I met you, it just took me a little while to work out that was what was happening." Oliver pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I love you, Felicity, and this is all going to work out. I promise you." It amazed Oliver how they could move from playful banter, to passionate making out and then onto tender, heartfelt discussions so seamlessly. Every moment with Felicity was a wealth of the human experience, and Oliver treasured each changing beat. For the longest time Oliver had feared he'd lost his humanity because of what he'd gone through, but being with Felicity had shown him that wasn't true. Felicity settled more comfortably in his arms, and Oliver knew he was going to find leaving her tonight next to impossible. "Let me stay the night, Felicity," he requested huskily, lips moving against the top of her head. "I need to be near you tonight, and I think you need that too."

Felicity drew back and gave him a hesitant look. "Oliver—"

"I swear to you, it'll be completely platonic."

Felicity's gaze drifted down to his lap and then back up again to meet his with a decidedly skeptical look.

"That will go down in an hour or so," said Oliver determinedly. "Two on the outside."

"And us lying in bed together is going to help with that how exactly?"

Felicity was right to have her doubts. Oliver knew that if she gave him the slightest encouragement, his current state of arousal wouldn't be going anywhere soon.

"Oliver, I want you, I want us to make love, but I'm not quite ready yet—"

"Still fine with that," he said hastily.

"And I also don't want to torture you unnecessarily in the meantime," said Felicity emotionally. She wrinkled her nose prettily. "Or myself for that matter. My self-control isn't exactly what you'd call flawless either, given what just happened."

It made Oliver feel a little bit better to hear Felicity admit she was struggling with her libido around him too. Better, in an incredibly frustrating way. He blew out a long breath. "Okay." He leaned back in his seat and gave her a winsome smile. "But I don't have to go home just yet, do I?"

Felicity smiled. "No."

"Good." Oliver threaded his fingers through hers. Making love to her right then would have been amazing, but Oliver would settle for more conversation. He simply couldn't get enough when it came to her. "What's your mother's favorite flower?"

Felicity looked a little surprised at the sudden change of subject, but she still answered. "Red roses, kinda traditional, I know." She rolled her eyes. "It's the only traditional thing about her now that I come to think about it." Felicity looked up at him. "Why do you want to know?"

"I can't visit your mother empty handed, particularly when she's in a rehab clinic."

"Oh right, that," said Felicity, shoulders sagging. "You know, it's not too late to cancel. Mom would totally understand."

"We're not cancelling," said Oliver firmly. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Then you're mentally unhinged," said Felicity in vague annoyance.

"Why is it so strange that I might want to meet my girlfriend's mother?"

"Why do you want to meet her?" asked a frustrated Felicity.

"Because I want to tell her I'm serious about her daughter, that I'm not fooling around."

Felicity's eyes went wide. "You absolutely cannot do that!"

"Why wouldn't you want your mother to know I'm serious about our relationship?" asked Oliver in consternation. "Isn't that what most mothers want to hear when it comes to the men dating their daughters?"

"Trial dating," she corrected him unevenly.

Oliver made a clicking sound. "Felicity, you know that trial thing has an expiry date. You're not going to be able to hide behind it for much longer."

"I'm not hiding," she said hotly.

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to reduce the Mom related stress factor in all of this."

"But I'm not stressed about your mother."

"That's because you don't know her!"

"And by this time tomorrow I will," said Oliver simply.

"Don't say that," groaned Felicity. She slumped against the cushions. "It sounds so ominous."

"It doesn't sound anything of the kind because it's not ominous at all. Just what do you think your mother is going to say to me exactly that has you this worked up anyway?" Felicity really was agitated about the thought of him meeting her mother. It was moving from adorable to being a little worrying.

"It's not what my mom will say to you," said Felicity shortly. She pulled a face. "Okay, not only what she'll say. Have you given any kind of thought as to what kind of answers you're going to give to her multiple and intrusive questions?"

"Not really," said Oliver casually. "I figured I'd just wing it."

"And that kind of laissez-faire attitude is what is going to see us totally destroyed tomorrow. We need a strategic plan."

"Felicity, we're seeing your mother, not invading Poland," said Oliver indulgently. "I don't think a strategy is called for here—"

"How did you and my daughter meet?" snapped Felicity, assuming the role of her mother.

Oliver settled back against the sofa, one leg up on the seat, his arm resting along the back. He smiled. "I met her I went down to the IT department of Queen Consolidated with a busted lap top."

"What kind of lap top was it?"

"A broken one. I'm not much for technology, I didn't really take any notice."

"What was wrong with it?"

"Something your brilliant daughter could fix." He gave her a warm smile.

Felicity arched an eyebrow, not swayed by his praise. "So, how did Felicity manage to go from the IT department to your secretary? She has a degree from MIT, you know. She is way more than just someone who can answer the phone and make you cups of coffee."

Oliver's lips twitched. "I feel like you might be projecting with that last one somehow."

"You're being evasive. Red flag." Felicity folded her arms in front of herself. "Just answer the question."

"I recognized her potential immediately, and with being a novice in the business world, I knew I'd need someone with your daughter's intelligence to add to my team to make me look not quite so out of my depth."

"Overtones of the truth with enough self-aware vulnerability to appear endearing," Felicity critiqued his response. "Mom will buy that."

"Not my reason for saying it, but good."

"You've known my daughter for almost three years now."

"Yes."

"Why do you want to start a relationship with her now, out of the blue, and does it have anything to do with a mind-altering toxic gas?"

Oliver scratched his cheek with one long finger. "That feels like a particularly specific question which is unlikely to come up."

"Avoidance, red flag."

Oliver held eye contact with her unflinchingly. "My wanting to be in a relationship with Felicity has nothing to do with a toxic gas, and everything to do with the fact she is an amazing, brilliant, gorgeous woman who is impossible not to love."

"You're overselling it," said Felicity unsteadily, but still clearly affected by his words.

"You can't oversell the truth, it's just the truth," said Oliver huskily. He reached out and took her hand. "Felicity, please stop worrying about tomorrow. It's going to go great."

"Don't say that!" she said in distress and turned her head. "Ptu ptu ptu."

Oliver's eyebrows shot up. "Did you just spit?"

"It's a Jewish thing," said Felicity anxiously. "K'nayin horeh – no evil eye. You either say the words or spit three times to ward off bad things when you tempt fate."

Oliver gave an exasperated smile. "You are seriously overreacting to this mother situation."

Felicity pouted. "And you are seriously underreacting, so who is really at fault here, hmm?"

Oliver shook his head, and tried not to laugh.

"It's you."

"I assumed," he said in amusement.

Felicity sighed heavily. "You should go home, it's late and we've got an early start in the morning." She cocked her head as he hesitated. "Are you working out another way to pitch staying over tonight?"

"It would save on transit time," he wheedled.

"Except that you still have to go to your place to change at some point."

"You could take a change of clothes and come with me, problem solved," Oliver cajoled.

"Not all our problems." Felicity's pointed gaze dropped to his lap again.

Oliver followed her gaze, looking down at his lap. "Oh that, that's nothing." He looked back at her, a roguish smile on his lips. "Well, it's not nothing. In fact, it could be argued it's quite something… if you're interested." Oliver's expression became teasingly hopeful. "Just sayin'."

"You don't have to say, I remember," said Felicity in amusement. "The cabin and your devil may care policy about pants at the time, remember?"

"That's right." He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. "Did you happen to see anything you like, Ms. Smoak?"

Felicity laughed and blushed at the same time. "I'm way too much of a lady to answer that question."

"Damn it, I knew I'd find a flaw about you eventually," he said in mock disappointment.

Felicity giggled, and slapped his chest. "Go home."

"Come with me."

"You're so stubborn."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you."

Felicity looked down at him, eyes narrowing as she seemed to be considering her options. She leant forward, so her lips were against his ear. "I'm not coming home with you, Oliver for the same reason you can't stay here."

"And what reason would that be?" asked Oliver a little unevenly, her closeness making it difficult to catch his breath.

"Because if we were in the same bed together tonight, I'd absolutely do many bad, unspeakable things to you," said Felicity throatily before straightening up, and giving him a bright smile. "And we both agree that's not a good thing right now."

Oliver was looking up at her wide eyed, the blood fairly screaming in his veins. "Okay," he said, voice cracking a little, "that seems unnecessarily cruel of you, young lady. What happened to not wanting to be a tease?"

Felicity grinned cheekily. "What can I say, sometimes I've got a bad girl in me that I just can't seem to get to behave."

Oliver groaned loudly, closing his eyes. "I did _not_ need to know that." Just as well he didn't need much sleep. The likelihood of anything remotely resembling sleep tonight was pretty low if that painful throbbing in his groin was any indication. Thoughts of a bad girl Felicity were not going to exactly help in that area either.

Felicity gave a light laugh. "Come on, mister, you need to go."

"I need to cum," muttered Oliver under his breath, even as he sat up.

"What?"

"You drive me crazy," said Oliver more loudly, giving her an exasperated look.

"This is for the good of our relationship," said Felicity, getting off the sofa with him. "I promise."

"Something had better be benefiting from this," grumbled Oliver as he walked to the door, still very conscious of his frustrated state.

Felicity stopped at the door and looked suddenly concerned. "You're not really mad at me, are you? You said it was okay that we wait and you could handle it."

"Of course I can handle this," said Oliver valiantly. "So what if it's going to markedly shorten my life expectancy? That's a small price to pay."

Felicity gave him a look of amused cynicism. "You can't die of sexual frustration. That's just something men say to get women into bed with them."

"You don't die of it, it just feels like you are dying," corrected Oliver.

"Melodramatic much?"

"Could I have a bit more sympathy for the colossal sacrifice I'm making here, please?"

Felicity leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Thank you for being such a gentleman about this," she said softly. "I will absolutely be making it up to you when the time is right."

"Not to be pushy about this, but is there some way I can get that in writing?" asked Oliver unevenly, only half kidding.

"Your romantic sacrifice is getting less so now that you want to include a notary," said Felicity wryly.

He gave a crooked smile. "You make a valid point… but I still wouldn't mind something in writing, you know, just to get me over the hump. I have lawyers on retainer for just this kind of emergency."

"Really, lawyers on retainer for _this_ kind of emergency?"

Despite everything, her teasing of him was just too much fun. "Okay, this might be a first, but you're a lot of firsts for me, Felicity, so that seems fitting." He stole a quick kiss.

Felicity bit her bottom lip, looking pleased. "Go home, Oliver, I'll see you in a few hours," she said huskily.

Oliver reluctantly nodded. "Lock the door after me."

"This neighborhood isn't as dangerous as you seem determined to make it out to be. There aren't criminals around every corner."

"I wasn't worried about them," said Oliver wryly. "I was worried about me, breaking back in, despite my best intentions."

Felicity laughed. "Oh that. Well, I guess I'd better be careful then."

Oliver took her hand and squeezed it, drawing her close for a last lingering kiss. He ended the kiss and headed out the door, waiting to hear the sound of Felicity locking the door behind him. Oliver walked over to his car and unlocked it, taking a seat at the wheel but didn't immediately move to leave. Instead he opened the glove compartment and drew out a dark blue velvet box. He flipped open the box to reveal a marquise cut emerald nestled in a ring of sparkling diamonds atop a platinum band. Oliver stared at the ring, unable to help the smile which came to his lips. He'd known that was the ring for Felicity as soon as he'd seen it in the jewelers with Diggle. It was perfect, just like Felicity. It felt really good to have the ring he was one day going to ask Felicity to marry him with in his hands. And hopefully that day wasn't too far off, and this driving away from her thing at the end of every day was going to be a thing of the past. Oliver closed the box and slipped it into his coat pocket, starting the car. As he pulled away from the curb he couldn't help but think about different scenarios for proposing to Felicity. Oliver knew he wanted it to be perfect, and the memory to last forever because this was a onetime thing for both of them. In the past that would have been a terrifying thought but nowadays it only made him smile. He was smiling a lot these days and Oliver knew exactly why that was, and he was determined never to let the reason why go, no matter what.

**A/N****: So, that was that chapter. I hope no one is cross with Felicity for that last little bit. She really isn't trying to torture Oliver – and she's as tortured as he is. Of course, both are possibly not as tortured as my little ducklings right now. I've warned folks before, I'm much like the CW – I don't give out fun sexy times too freely. You have to work for it and I'm not going to argue that you've all been very patient and I promise, we will get there… eventually. **

**Now, to that end about the when of that event, I thought I'd try out another spoilerish method and see how that compares with getting snippets. I'll do what the show does and give out titles of the next few upcoming chapters. Once again I'll give fair warning for those who don't want to know. **

**Let me know what you think… **

**SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS **

CHAPTER 16 – The Go To Move

CHAPTER 17 – Meeting Mama Smoak Pt 1

CHAPTER 18 – Meeting Mama Smoak Pt 2

**SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS **


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N****: Sorry, sorry, guys, I got distracted by a shiny thing, and forgot all about this story. Let me provide you with a peace offering of lemon myrtle and pistachio flavored palmiers… what do you mean the plate is empty… okay, I may or may not have eaten the plate of palmiers while typing the initial opening of this a/n (I did)… don't judge me. **

**Pearl is on edge because we're getting another thunderstorm rolling in. Well, we're getting the thunder, it remains to be seen if there will be actual rain, but Pearl is giving the rumbling sky a right telling off either way. No one protects me against thunder like my Pearly Girly. **

**Back to my distraction thing. I've entered into this new business venture kind of thing which involves me getting lots of wonderful herbs, spices, exotic vinegars (like blood orange, mango and guava plus a maple bourbon one) and oils (like Kasbah and Picante Mexican). Basically I've been just in the kitchen experimenting with all these amazing flavors. My creative side of my brain was taken up with that, rather than story telling. Soz. **

**But, the first flush of excitement has died down, and now I can concentrate (somewhat) on getting the next installment of this story out to you. I really shouldn't have entered into this business opportunity thing before finishing this story, because my time is already pretty much spoken for with life in general. But, I'm impulsive like that, and I'll try not to let my cooking passion get in the way of my story telling passion too much. ;) It's just that I can eat my cooking passion stuff… the story telling passion stuff doesn't go down quite as easily… it leaves a bit of a laptop aftertaste to it… not unsurprisingly. **

**So, this chapter – we have 5 different scenes and it's reasonably long, so I hope that will make up for my tardiness in posting – at least a little bit. We find out what happened to Roy and just how much therapy he's going to be needing now… spoiler alert – it's a lot… but he may as well save up that anxiety medicine because I'm going to be sending him to a new level of hell soon enough. **

**But enough of my maniacal plans to torture a fictitious character to the limits of good case… and possibly beyond… far, far beyond. Let's crack on with this chapter, eh? **

**Happy reading… **

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Roy sat perfectly still on a chair, staring stoically ahead as Diggle and Bunny exchanged looks. He'd been back for nearly half an hour now and they were still bugging him. Roy didn't want to be bugged. Roy just wanted to sit there and patiently wait for the sweet nothingness of death, but the damn thing was taking its time. And his audience was being as relentless as hell.

"Kitten," said Bunny tentatively, "are you ready to tell us what happened out there tonight?"

"Ross and Gutz aren't with creepy named dentist," said Roy hollowly, still staring straight ahead.

"You've said that a couple of times now," noted Diggle.

"It's all you've said, honey," pointed out Bunny. "Brown bear and I are worried."

Roy blinked once, very slowly. "Ross and Gutz aren't with creepy named dentist. I don't want to talk about it."

"You've said that a couple of times too," sighed Bunny. "But, kitten, I think you should. Whatever happened—"

"Nothing happened!" proclaimed Roy loudly, eyes going wide. "Nothing happened!"

"That nothing seems to have you a little on edge, darling."

"I don't want to talk about it. Nothing happened."

Bunny sighed heavily and looked over at Diggle. "It's like he's caught on some kind of loop."

"Mm," murmured Diggle seriously. "I've seen this before in the battlefield. Soldiers go into shock after facing down unspeakable horrors."

"What should we do?" asked Bunny, looking at Roy worriedly.

"Hold on, I have an idea." Diggle reached out and slapped Roy hard around the head.

"Hey!" yelled Roy, leaping up. He rubbed the back of his head, jolted out of his stillness. "How is that meant to be helpful?"

"He seems fine," concluded Diggle.

Roy was still rubbing his head. "I want to see the medical degree that comes with that diagnosis," he snapped.

"No problem." Diggle lifted his hand and batted at Roy again.

"OWW! Are you kidding me?" shouted a red-faced Roy.

"Want to see my Master's Degree?" offered up Diggle helpfully, lifting his hand again.

"Stop hitting me, you maniac! I'm in a fragile emotional state. Show a little compassion."

"I did. I didn't hit you with my full strength."

Roy blinked up at him in disbelief. "_That_ wasn't your full strength?" His ears were still ringing.

"You're still conscious, aren't you?"

Roy glared at him. "You suck."

"What happened tonight?" asked Diggle, ignoring his critique.

Roy swallowed hard, his hand dropping away from his head. "Nothing.

"Darling, we lost contact with you for over half an hour," said Bunny. "We were worried. What happened in that half hour?"

"I was in a room, I had to work out how to get out of the room."

"What kind of room?" Diggle quizzed him.

"One with four walls, a locked door, and no windows." Roy swallowed noisily again. "No windows, no way out."

"What was going on in the room? Why were all those men there?" asked Diggle. "What's creepy named dentist up to?"

"Nothing, nothing happened, I didn't see anything!" Roy's voice was edging towards the hysterical in pitch.

"Darling, whatever it is, you're not going to shock us." Bunny took his arm. "Whatever it is, you need to get it off your chest. Just tell us. I promise you, it's not going to be as bad as you think it is." He hesitated. "Unless there was a lot of plaid involved. Was there a lot of plaid involved?"

Roy looked at him blankly. "Plaid?"

"Yes, the pattern offends me on the deepest level. It's just wrong." Bunny was completely serious.

"No, it didn't involve plaid," said Roy hotly. _If only._ "It involved—"

"What?" pushed Diggle. "What did it involve?"

Roy squeezed his eyes close. "Did you ever see something that you didn't know what you were seeing?"

"Ugh, yes, that Life of Pi movie," said Bunny, wrinkling his nose. "The whole movie, a guy in a boat with a tiger. It was so boring I had to put on hand cream."

Both men looked at him.

"I moisturize when bored," said Bunny blithely. "I came out of that movie with the hands of a newborn baby."

"Roy—" Diggle glanced over at Bunny, and shook his head, obviously still trying to get past the moisturizing story. He turned his attention back to Roy. "Look, I need to know details. Just tell us or—"

"Or what?" asked Roy defiantly.

"Or I'll hit you again."

"So, what, you're just going to beat the story out of me?" asked Roy indignantly.

"I was thinking bitch slap," said Diggle casually. "But whatever."

"Okay, fine, you want to know the truth, I'll tell you the truth!" he declared imperiously.

"Ohh… this is so exciting," said Bunny happily. "I'm all goosey – look." He held up his arm to reveal goose bumps.

"Just tell us what happened before anything else on Bunny's body becomes erect, Roy," said Diggle flatly.

"And you know the clock is ticking on that one, kitten," said Bunny brightly.

Roy put his hands on his hips and took a deep, unsteady breath. "I walked into this room, the door was locked behind me. There was no way out. The men, the others I'd seen going into the building, they were all there, including creepy named dentist."

"Was it like some kind of fight club thing?" asked Diggle.

"And if so, did it involve mud or hot oil?" Bunny held up a finger. "Follow up question and if it did, were you able to take pictures?"

"No pictures, no pictures ever!" yelled Roy, going pale at just the thought.

"If you don't tell us what you saw in the next five seconds, I'm going to hurt you," said Diggle tersely. "Very, very badly."

"I saw men, dressed as ponies!" shouted Roy.

Diggle looked at him blankly. "What?"

"Grown ass men, all dressed up like those pony things, you know, the toys for girls, the My Little Pony stuff." Roy was getting hot and cold flashes at just the thought of it.

"I still don't know what you're saying," said Diggle slowly. He was looking at Roy as though he was insane.

Roy felt insane in that moment.

"I do," said Bunny. He gave a knowing nod of his head. "Bronies."

Roy and Diggle looked at him.

"What the hell are Bronies?" asked Diggle.

"A living nightmare, that's what!" snapped Roy. "And I walked right into their headquarters, and now I'm scarred for life!"

"Bronies are a subculture of My Little Pony enthusiasts which mainly consists of young men," said Bunny. "It's a mix up of Brothers and Ponies… Bronies."

Diggle blinked. "There is no possible way that is a thing."

"Oh yes, it's a thing," said Bunny without hesitation. "Quite a big thing if the webpages are anything to go by. It's billed as people who identify with different characters of the Little Ponies and want to share that love." He pursed his lips. "Of course, there is a darker subculture to the group that takes it a step too far."

"Grown men dressing as a little girl's cartoon isn't a step too far already?" asked Diggle in disbelief.

"It gets worse," said Roy, his stare full of vacant horror. "Much much worse."

"I think our little kitten here stumbled on a clopping party," said Bunny sympathetically.

"Clopping?" asked Diggle.

"Oh God," said Roy faintly. "It has a name." He looked at Diggle. "I'm ready for you to knock me out now."

Diggle waved an impatient hand at him, and looked back at Bunny. "Explain."

"Please, don't explain," pleaded Roy, "never explain."

"It's when men, umm, entertain themselves to images of sexualized versions of the Little Ponies," explained Bunny.

"They were everywhere," said Roy shakily. "There was nowhere to look. Everywhere burned my eyes."

Bunny held up his arms to Roy. "Oh my poor darling, you've had a terrible shock. Let Aunty Bunny give you a cuddle."

Roy held up both hands, an imperious look on his face. "I can't be touched. All human contact repulses me right now." His expression became traumatized. "And probably for the rest of my life."

"So, basically a weird sex party," said Diggle. "No man hunters or cannibals?"

"I never thought I'd say this," said Roy unsteadily, "but in that time I was trapped in there, I was actually _hoping_ I would get eaten."

"If you'd stayed for much longer, you probably would have been," said Bunny, straight faced.

"ARRGGHH!" screamed Roy. He put his hands over his face. "Somebody kill me!" Roy dropped his hands back to his side just in time to see Diggle fighting a smile. "Oh, you think this is funny?" he bit out.

"It's not not funny," said Diggle. His smile widened.

"I have been irreversibly scarred for life," said Roy in outrage. "No one should have to see what I've just seen."

"And you're sure there no way you might have missed Ross and Gutz?" said Diggle. "You know, in all the confusion."

"Well, I wasn't trying to make eye contact with anyone, but yes, I'm sure."

"Two options, creepy named dentist guy isn't their go to in Starling, or they've been stashed somewhere else."

"So, what, we should keep on checking out the dentist?" asked Bunny.

"I am not going back to that place!" Roy practically yelled.

Diggle looked thoughtful. "I think we'll move onto the other two, and come back to the dentist if they don't pan out."

"You're doing the next one," said Roy tersely. "Who knows what kind of atrocities that are going to be found at a place called Cox, Cox and Weiner?"

"Fine," said Diggle easily. "Tomorrow night I'll check out the lawyer. No problem."

"Yeah," said Roy flatly, "we'll see."

#

Felix gripped the white paper bag he was holding tighter, and took a deep breath. "Today is a new day," he told himself firmly. "Today there is nothing you can't overcome." With that little pep talk, he marched into the revolving door of the foyer to Queen Consolidated and right up to the front desk. The same, gargantuan guard was on duty.

Carter screwed up his face and sighed heavily. "And today was going to be my happy day."

"I feel like we got off on the wrong foot yesterday," said Felix brightly. "And as such, I want to gift you with a peace offering." He held out the white bag. "Also colloquially known as bagels."

Carter gave a cool look at the bag. "I'm gluten intolerant."

"Oh," said Felix, shoulders sagging a little. "Bummer."

"You're not going up."

"But I bought peace bagels, that should show my intentions are honorable," protested Felix. "If you could just ring up to Felicity for me, she'd tell you that she knows me, and this whole problem would go away."

"I could do that—"

"Oh great," said Felix in relief. Finally, some progress.

"But I'm not going to," finished off Carter calmly.

Felix scowled. "You're being unfriendly again."

"And you're being an annoying little prick again," said Carter flatly.

"Okay, is there really any cause for name calling here?" asked Felix indignantly.

"There is if you persist in wasting my time."

"Look, it's really important that I see, Felicity. Life or death."

"Was that a threat?" asked Carter sharply.

Felix was taken aback. "What, no, of course not. I just want to give her this—" He fished inside his leather satchel for the envelope.

"Look out, gun!" yelled Carter.

Felix's head snapped up, and he looked around in a panic for the gun welding maniac and then the next thing he knew, he was being tackled to the ground. Most of the air left his lungs in a painful rush and with the last bit of it, he managed a pained squeak as black spots started to dance before his eyes.

**#**

Oliver trotted down the stairs, looking down at where Bunny was already up and making breakfast. He had quite a set up going on.

"Hello, monkey," sang out Bunny cheerfully. "You're up early. I like that in my men."

"I've got to fly out to LA and Vegas today," said Oliver. "I wanted to check in about last night before I did."

Roy's determined voice came out from the backroom where the shower could be heard running. "We're not talking about last night! Nothing happened!"

Bunny leaned over towards Oliver as Oliver came to stand where the older man was whipping a batter by the hotplate. "My kitten is still a little fragile about last night," he whispered. "We're trying not to mention it."

Oliver frowned. "Why is he fragile if nothing happened?"

"There was a thing."

"A thing?"

"Yes, but we're not talking about it."

"Why did we lose coms with Roy for half an hour last night?"

"It's thing related."

Oliver made an annoyed clicking noise. "Would someone tell me this thing is?"

"No," snapped Roy from behind him, "because there is nothing to talk about." His look became menacingly pointed at Bunny. "_Nothing_." Roy walked over to the two men, securing the towel around his waist more tightly, hair still damp from his shower.

"It was nothing," Bunny brightly concurred.

Oliver's jaw hardened. He didn't like secrets. "If it's nothing than it isn't a problem to tell me what the hell is going on."

"Nothing, that's what going on," bit out Roy. "And we're not talking about it. All you need to know is that creepy named dentist guy was a bust. Ross and Gutz aren't there. We have to move onto the next guy on our list."

Oliver looked him over. "What are you doing here so early anyways? I thought Digg was on Bunny duty last night."

"We didn't think he was in any fit state to drive home," said Bunny. "You know, after the nothing happened."

"Will somebody tell me what this nothing is!" snapped Oliver.

Diggle's voice came from behind him. "Trust me, you don't want to know." He walked up and deposited a bag on the bench beside Bunny. "The strawberries and maple syrup are on top."

"Oh, thank you, my darling," said Bunny happily. "You can't have French toast without strawberries and maple syrup."

Oliver put his hands on his hips. "So, what, no one is going to tell me what happened last night?" _This was ridiculous_.

"You know need all you need to know," said Roy, fishing a piece of crisping bacon out of the frying pan. "Nothing happened… ow, ow, oww!" He danced the bacon around in his hands as it dripped molten fat.

"Oh kitten," clucked Bunny, "at least use a plate, you'll burn yourself." He handed Roy a plate. "How many pieces of French toast do you want?"

"Just keep them coming until I pass out," said Roy, accepting the plate but already munching on the bacon. "I burned a lot of trauma calories last night and I need to replenish." He threw a look over at Oliver. "You know, when nothing happened."

"At least put a shirt on," said Diggle firmly. "I don't need your nipples staring at me while I try and enjoy my breakfast."

"Don't listen to him, kitten," insisted Bunny. "There is nothing I love more than French toast and nipples in the morning."

"I'm getting a shirt," said Roy flatly and hastily headed back to the backroom.

"And pants!" called out Diggle after him.

"I can dress myself, man!" came Roy's voice from the other room.

"Okay, so the dentist was a bust, is that what I'm hearing?" asked Oliver in resignation.

"Yes, I'm moving onto the lawyer tonight," said Diggle.

"Fine." Oliver glanced at his watch, and then over at his exercise area. "I wonder if I can get a work out in before I have to leave for the airport?"

"What's the matter?" asked Diggle. "Got some excess energy?"

"I wonder why that is," said Bunny coyly and the two men exchanged amused looks.

"Does everyone know about Felicity and mine's… arrangement?" asked Oliver in irritation.

"Oh yes, darling," said Bunny blithely. "We talk about it a lot."

"What, between yourselves?" asked Oliver in horror.

"It's not a lot," corrected Diggle. "We just all think it's a little bit funny."

Oliver glared at him. "What's so funny about me respecting Felicity's wishes and taking the physical aspect of our relationship slowly?" he demanded to know.

Diggle shrugged. "It's amusing watching you flounder around without your go to move." Bunny handed him a plateful of French toast and Diggle started to cut up strawberries to put on top.

Oliver's scowl deepened. "My what?"

Diggle took a mouthful of his French toast and gave Oliver a considered look. "Your go to move is sex, Oliver."

"What, no it isn't."

"Yes, it is. Every guy has a go to move, and yours is sex."

Oliver was taken aback at the other man's assessment. "That's stupid and completely untrue."

"No, it's not."

"It's true, honey," interjected Bunny. "My go to move when I'm looking to impress is my cooking prowess. I wine them and dine them until they're putty in my hands… well, not all of them, obviously. Some parts of them I like hard."

"Mine is I can sing," said Diggle easily, helping himself to the maple syrup now. "No woman can resist my dulcet crooning."

Bunny sighed heavily and leant his elbow on the table between them, propping up his head, and looking at Diggle dreamily. "Or man either, I'm guessing. You'll have to give me a private performance, brown bear."

"I save the magic for the people I want to create meaningful relationship with."

"We could be meaningful, darling. We could be _so_ meaningful."

Roy walked back into the room, now fully dressed. "What are we talking about?" He instantly grabbed a plate and started loading up on French toast and bacon.

"Our go to move to impress women," said Diggle. He inclined his head at Bunny. "And men."

"Mine's dancing," volunteered Roy around a mouthful of bacon. "Women flock to me when I break out the moves on the dance floor."

"Are they sure they're not just worried you're having a fit?" asked Oliver irritably.

"I am a rhythm god," said Roy proudly. "Thea says you have two left feet on the dance floor."

"I don't dance," said Oliver darkly. "It's not a skill set I've found in anyway necessary in my life."

"And do you know why?" asked Diggle knowingly. "It's because your go to move to woo women is sex, and you and Felicity are taking it slowly on that front, so, you're out of your element. You don't have a backup move."

"You make me sound like some kind of rampant sexual predator," said Oliver in irritation.

Bunny was liberally applying maple syrup to his French toast. "Oh look, monkey, you ooze your sexuality from every pore – if you've got it, flaunt it, I always say. Of course sex is going to be your go to move. You're a sexy guy. Sexy guys use sex. It's basic maths."

"I'm not some vacuous male model type who gets by with women by standing around and looking pretty," bit out Oliver.

Bunny waved his piece of French toast around. "No, my love, you're also incredibly rich, and have an air of mystique to you that makes a girl just want to unwrap you like a big old Christmas present, and bury your face in the unbridled enigma contained within." He took a bite of his toast, and looked thoughtful. "Or maybe that is just me."

"So, what, you're saying Felicity is only with me because I'm sexy?" asked Oliver indignantly.

"No, we're saying the opposite," said Diggle. "Felicity is one of the few women who have been with you without a big portion of that reason being about sex. Like I said, you're off your home turf."

"You're playing out of town," agreed Roy. "You don't have the home side advantage."

"I'm not trying to take advantage of Felicity!" said Oliver hotly. "And you're all insane. I bring a lot more to the table than just sex!"

"Yeah, like that whole backstory of five years in hell," said Roy dryly. "That's a real panty dropper. A woman can never get enough of torture stories."

Oliver glared at him for that jab. "I have other things to do with a woman on a date than talk about my past."

"Like what?" asked Diggle curiously. "I mean, it's not like you have a lot of hobbies outside of archery, and most women, that's not a huge draw card."

"There are other things," insisted Oliver. "Lots of other things."

"Name three."

Oliver tried to think. He couldn't remember the last movie he'd gone to, and it wasn't like he had any real time to read books between all the reading he had to do to keep up at Queen Consolidated and then just the time factor of being the Arrow. He could cook, but it was rudimentary, and it was unlikely a woman would be impressed with his recipe for lizard stew. Dancing was definitely off the table, Thea hadn't been lying about his two left feet issue. "Ah… well…" _Damn it, there had to be something._

"Yeah, that's pretty much what we're saying," said Diggle calmly.

"No, wait, give me a minute, I can do this," said Oliver urgently.

"You don't have to do anything, darling," said Bunny, taking pity on him. "Obviously Felicity doesn't need any moves when it comes to you. She sees the man behind the mask and the boardroom table, and loves him. We were just commenting to help you out, so that you know why you might be feeling a little out of your depth with Felicity at times."

Oliver pouted. "I liked it better when all we talked about in the Arrow cave was strategies and plans. I'm not comfortable with this foray into some kind of male support group," he grumbled, "particularly when it's not being overly supportive."

"Yeah, tell me about it," muttered Roy, loading up his French toast with bacon and drowning it with maple syrup. "You should have heard how useless these guys were about making me feel better about being caught in the middle of a fetish sex party with no way out." He stopped talking abruptly and looked up, face stricken. "I've said too much."

Oliver arched an eyebrow. "Is this the nothing I've heard so much about?"

Roy went pale. "No," he said hastily, "absolutely not."

Diggle's phone rang and he stepped way to answer it.

"So, what, attending sex parties is a regular thing for my sister's boyfriend to do?"

"No, no, and hell no! It was all a horrible mistake." Roy's eyebrows knitted together. "A horrible, permanently scarring mistake from which I'm going to spend the rest of my life repressing."

Oliver had a lot more questions, but Diggle was rejoining them, a serious look on his face. "That was one of Queen Consolidated security guys. I've got them reporting back to me about anyone attempting to get into the building to see Felicity."

Oliver was instantly on alert. "What happened?"

"Apparently there is this guy that has been making a pest of himself, asking for Felicity by name the last couple of days," said Diggle grimly.

"Reporter?"

"Carter thinks so. He seems fixated on Felicity, that they've got some kind of connection, or something."

Oliver's jaw hardened. "I want him banned from the building. He doesn't step foot into the place."

"Don't worry, Carter has taken care of it, but he was just letting me know."

Oliver nodded. "Good. Felicity doesn't need the stress. She's anxious enough about us going to see her mom as it is."

"Are you, monkey?" asked Bunny curiously.

"No," said Oliver truthfully. "I can't imagine Felicity's mom being anything other than great considering how she turned out." In fact he was very much looking forward to it. Now, if only he could get Felicity on board with his excitement over the whole thing. It seemed like a remote possibility at best.

#

Felix limped into the Barrett Hotel, feeling decidedly worse for wear. Claire was behind the concierge desk and saw him coming.

She immediately rushed over to him. "Oh my goodness, what happened to you?" Claire took his arm and helped him walk.

"You know in the Wizard of Oz, when that house falls on the Wicked Witch?" asked Felix weakly. "Pretty much that."

"A house fell on you?" asked Claire in confusion as she guided him to the bench to take a seat.

"House, some kind of two story apartment, take your pick," groaned Felix as he sat down and his back reminded him that the marble floors at Queen Consolidated didn't have much give in them.

"Were you mugged?" asked Claire in dismay. "Should I call the police?"

"No, no police," said Felix hastily. "It was just a misunderstanding." He looked at her wide eyed. "You don't need both lungs to survive, right? I heard something pop when it happened and I'm pretty certain it was a lung… or a kidney."

"Do you need me to take you to a hospital?"

"No, no, I'm fine." Felix gave a valiant smile to prove his fineness. "I just didn't think it'd be this hard to see her."

Claire's smile faltered a little. "Her who?"

"I have something, something important for a woman named Felicity Smoak. I can't get to see her. The security around her is insane."

"You mean the Felicity Smoak who is dating Oliver Queen?"

Felix sat up straighter. "You know her?" he asked eagerly. Finally his luck was changing.

Claire laughed. "No, I don't know girls who date billionaires, I just kinda follow what all the Queen's do." She hesitated. "Not in a weird way, just, you know, they're an interesting family and they're always in the papers and TV." Claire bit her bottom lip. "I promise you, I'm not some kind of psycho stalker."

"You wouldn't happen to know where Felicity lives, would you?" It was a long shot.

"No, obviously." Claire tilted her head. "Although I do often see her at Verdant."

"Verdant?"

"It's a really cool club over in the Glades which used to run by Oliver, but now his sister, Thea, runs it, with her boyfriend Roy." Claire gave an uneven smile. "Again, not a stalker."

"So, what, Felicity parties there?"

"Well… I see her coming and going a bit, but I don't see her in the actual club much. I guess she's doing behind the stuff things at the club. There is probably some VIP room that the common people don't know about. I just assumed she was hanging out there, you know, with Oliver."

"Could you take me to this club?" asked Felix eagerly.

Claire looked pleased. "You mean, like a date?"

"Ah… oh… um… okay, sure, a date, yes, why not?"

"I mean, we were going to go sightseeing today anyways. That's why I came in early for my shift."

"We were?" asked Felix hesitantly.

"Yes, last night, remember?" said Claire, her smile slipping. "You came in really late, I was just finishing my shift, said I could show you around the city if you wanted to… you said yes."

"Right," said Felix hastily. "Of course, yes, I remember now." He grimaced internally. _Damn it, not again_. Felix fixed a bright smile on his lips. "How could I forget? That'd be great." He held up the white bag he was still holding. "I bought us bagels." It was then he noticed that the bag had a hole in it, having been crushed along with the rest of him in Carter's overzealous attempts to protect everyone one from an envelope. The bag was crushed and very empty. Felix looked back at Claire with a contrite expression. "Correction, I have a bag that smells of bagels."

Claire laughed. "I may need something more substantial than that. I know a great breakfast place just around the corner." She stood up. "You want to try it out?"

"Definitely." Felix stood up as well and started to follow Claire out of the hotel. Maybe today wasn't going to be a total bust after all. A fun day with a pretty girl, and a real lead on finally tracking Felicity down. Now, all he needed was his other testicle to drop back down after Carter's knee had sent it skittering for the higher ground, and this day would be just about perfect.

**A/N****: And the mystery surrounding Felix continues to grow… but on the upside, he has a date. Maybe his luck really is starting to change… spoiler, it's not. See you in the next chapter for our meeting with a certain someone if my memory serves me right…**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N****: And here we are finally, at the big meeting. Obviously after such a long build up to this point, I feel the pressure to deliver over the next few chapters. So yeah, there's that. It's always interesting delving into the backstory of your characters and with Felicity in particular, I like to let slip little bits about her early life because I can't help but think she and Donna would have had a very interesting one. :D Donna was the original superhero in Felicity's life – a single mum, raising a child into brilliant, well-adjusted adulthood. That's no small thing. In fact it's everything, but when you're in the middle of that, it can be hard to see sometimes. I'm looking forward to taking Felicity on a little bit of a journey with that concept. Felicity recognizes the value of people, the light inside them, because of her mum. Maybe she hasn't put it all together yet, because it's her mum, but Donna gave Felicity the gift of being able to accept and understand people's humanity, while also being able to see their potential. It's no small thing. **

**Anyways, who knows if any of that will come across in the next few chapters? I guess you will in another couple of chapters… so that answers that question. **

**In the meantime, as I can neither think of anything witty nor intriguing to say at this very moment, I'll leave you to read on whilst I attempt to get my muse vaguely interested in writing another chapter. She's not exactly been on fire of late. I think she may have lapsed into some kind of a coma. That could be tricky when trying to complete this story… very tricky. Not sure what I'm going to do if I can't rouse her at some point… panic probably. That seems like the appropriate thing to do… . **

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

"Do you think your mom will like the flowers I got her?"

Felicity turned her head to look at the gorgeous bunch of three dozen, deep red roses Oliver was holding, their scent filling the entirety of the elevator they were currently riding in.

"They're amazing, she'll love them," said Felicity with a decided lack of enthusiasm. "And as an added bonus, you can lay them on my grave when all this is over."

Oliver made a clucking sound. "I feel pretty confident in making the call that my meeting your mother isn't going to result in your death."

"You can't know that for sure." Felicity was dreading this so much. "Just remember the deal, no talking."

"Felicity, I'm going to talk to your mother."

"Okay, fine, but here are the allowed subjects… the weather."

Oliver looked at her expectantly. "That's it, the weather?"

"Yes."

"I'm not going to talk to your mother just about the weather," said Oliver in exasperation.

"Fine, you can also talk about lemurs."

"Lemurs?"

"Yes." It was the first neutral thing she could think of.

"So… the weather and lemurs?"

Felicity looked steadfastly ahead, ignoring Oliver's looks. "Yes."

"Felicity, I'm not walking in and introducing myself to your mother by saying 'hey, quite the dry spell we're having, and did you know lemurs have scent glands in their feet and butts?"

"Do they?" asked Felicity in surprise.

"Yes, they rub them on things to mark territory. Saw it on Animal Planet."

"Cool."

"Agreed, but not what I want to open with when meeting your mother in person for the first time."

"I still don't get why you're so obsessed with meeting her at all," said Felicity in distressed.

"I'm not obsessed, I thought it'd be nice and a fun thing for us to do as a couple."

Felicity glared at him. She jabbed a finger at her face. "Does this look like the face of a woman who is having fun?"

"It looks like the face of a woman who ate her own body weight in M&M's on the flight between LA and Vegas. I thought the sugar was meant to calm you down."

Felicity's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Who told you that? Was it my Mom?"

"Ah… no," said Oliver hastily. "It was just something I've observed, independently, since I've known you."

"It was my Mom, wasn't it?"

Oliver pursed his lips. "Okay, yes, it was your Mom."

"I knew it!" Felicity squeezed her eyes closed. "This is exactly what I was afraid of. Mom is going to download this mega cache of unnecessary information about me on you."

"But I want that," protested Oliver. "I want to know every little thing about you."

"You know all you need to know," stated Felicity imperiously. "I was born, I got taller and now I'm in this elevator with you."

Oliver's smile was indulgent. "I feel like you may have glossed over a few things there with that summary."

"Boring things, things you won't be interested in knowing," said Felicity tersely.

"How do I know I'm not going to be interested until I hear what they are?" The elevator lurched to a standstill. "Stop being so melodramatic. We'll have a nice visit with your mother, then we'll fly home, and then I'll kick your butt at miniature golf on our date tonight."

Felicity put her hands on her hips. "You thinking you even have a chance at our golf rematch shows just how seriously deluded you are about all things."

Oliver threaded his arm through hers, and led her out of the elevator. "We'll see. In the meantime, why don't you introduce me to your mother, hmm?"

"Remember, the weather and lemurs," she warned him as they walked down the corridor.

"Yeah, no, that's not going to happen."

Felicity reluctantly stopped at the door to her mother's room. "Okay, this is it." She squared her shoulders. "They must have taken down the sign which reads 'Abandon all Hope, Ye Who Enters Here'."

"Quit stalling." Oliver knocked on the door.

"Come in," sang out Donna.

"Find a happy place, find a happy place," muttered Felicity under her breath and then Oliver was opening the door, and pushing her gently through.

Her mother was sitting up in bed in an all pink, tightly fitting sweat suit adorned with diamantes, and full hair and makeup. She held out her arms to Felicity. "There's my baby girl!" Donna announced with loud excitement.

"Hi, Mom," said Felicity unevenly as she went over to give her mother a hug. "You look good."

"Oh, this old thing," dismissed Donna easily. "I just found it in the back of my wardrobe today."

Felicity knew that was highly unlikely.

Donna looked past Felicity and smiled at Oliver. "We meet at last."

"It's been a day, Mom," said Felicity in exasperation.

"You've worked for Mr. Queen for nearly two years now," noted Donna.

"Yeah, well, we've been busy," she mumbled.

Oliver stepped up and smiled broadly at her. "Hello, Donna, so lovely to meet you." He held out the large bouquet to her. "These are for you."

"Oh," breathed Donna, eyes going wide. "They're lovely. Thank you so much, Oliver."

"And I got you these," said Felicity, shoving a box of the salted toffee at her. "You should try some right away. They're best when fresh."

"They're toffees, honey," said Donna, distracted by admiring her bouquet. "They'll keep for a minute, but thank you."

Felicity grimaced. Her silence Mom with toffees campaign wasn't going to work if she couldn't get her Mom to eat them.

"Did you have a good flight?" asked Donna brightly, burying her face in the roses and inhaling deeply.

"It was fine," said Felicity.

Oliver pulled over a seat for them both by her mother's bed.

Felicity took a seat, Oliver beside her. She gave Oliver a pointed look. "The weather was a little turbulent though. I think there is some bad weather coming in. What do you think, Oliver?"

"Don't know," said Oliver easily. "Weather really isn't my forte." He put his attention on Donna. "So, Donna, how is your rehab going?"

"It's going wonderfully, thank you for asking, Oliver," said Donna happily. "I've got the sweetest people looking after me. Nothing is too much trouble."

"That's great," said Oliver warmly. "Felicity tells me you're making great strides, might even be out of here by the end of the month."

"That's what I hope," said Donna. "I miss my little apartment."

"I'll put these in some water for you," offered Oliver. He stood up and took the flowers.

"Thank you," said Donna, and then turned her attention to Felicity, reaching out and taking her hand. "And how are you, honey? You're looking a little pale. Are you taking care of yourself?"

"I'm fine, Mom," said Felicity. "Just, it's been a long day already, you know. We won't be able to stay long."

"We've got time," said Oliver casually as he returned with a vase from the other room. "That's the beauty of having a private jet, you can pretty much make our own time table."

"Yes, but we've got that thing tonight," said Felicity, sending him an aggravated look. "Remember?"

"Felicity's talking about our miniature golf rematch," explained Oliver as he returned to his seat. He gave a lopsided smile. "She totally handed me my butt last time. I'm trying to redeem some honor."

"My little girl is very good at mini-golf. She did a lot of practicing when she was younger."

"I didn't know you noticed," said Felicity with a little frown. "You were always working."

"Of course I knew where you were and what you were doing," said Donna easily. Her look became teasing. "And why."

Felicity blushed and avoided eye contact with Oliver. "You didn't seem worried about me spending all that time alone with Ben. He was a grown man."

"Oh darlin', I knew you had a big old crush on him, and there was no harm in it. Nothing was ever going to come of it."

Felicity frowned. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom." She knew she wasn't as beautiful as her mother, but she didn't need the reminder.

Donna laughed. "No, honey, that's not it. Ben was gay."

"He was?" asked Oliver in surprise.

"He was?" asked Felicity with even more surprise. "Wait, no, he wasn't."

"Yes, honey, he was," said Donna knowingly.

Felicity snorted. "I think I'd know, Mom."

"He was dating that nice Swiss boy. What was his name again?"

"Alrik was from Sweden, Mom, and they weren't dating. He worked for Ben. They used to be locked in the back room all the time, going over the accounts. I think the business was in a bit of a mess because Alrik would often stay over Ben's place to work on them with him." Felicity stopped suddenly, and blinked. "Oh."

"Mmhmm," said her mother.

"I've just put that all together." Felicity sat back in her seat. "I don't believe this. Ben was gay."

"Of course he was," said Donna blithely. "As though I'd let my beautiful baby girl hang around a grown man if it was any other way. Ben was so sweet with you. He treated you like a little sister."

"My first real crush was on a man who I didn't even know was gay," said Felicity flatly. "Typical."

Donna patted her arm. "We Smoak women have a genetic predisposition to choose unsuitable men." She wrinkled her nose at Felicity. "Sorry about that, honey."

Oliver gave a hopeful smile. "Not all the time, I hope."

"It's a pretty high percentage," said Donna candidly. "I've got quite the impressive roll call myself. Take Carl for instance."

Felicity frowned. "Carl, the Marine?" Her mother nodded. "What was wrong with him? He was a great guy, and he had that lovely twin sister."

"Carl didn't have a twin sister, honey."

"Yes, he did, Carol. I remember meeting her really clearly. She took us for ice creams. They looked really alike."

Her mother cocked her head. "Did you ever see Carl and Carol together?"

"Yes, of course." Felicity hesitated, screwing up her face and trying to think. "Okay, actually, maybe not."

Donna smiled kindly at her. "They were the same person, darlin'."

"No, they weren't," said Felicity sharply. "That's insane."

"Carl was a cross dresser," volunteered Donna freely. "Carol was his female alter ego."

Felicity's mouth dropped open. "Are you serious? You dated him for like, six months."

"He was a very sweet man," said Donna unapologetically. "Just because he liked a nice stiletto and lipstick didn't change that."

"How could I not have known this?" asked Felicity faintly.

"Oh honey, you were so young, only nine or so. You weren't to know."

"A nine year old should be able to tell a man from a woman," said Felicity in distress. _Oh God, was she really this tragic? And why did Oliver have to be a witness to how big of an idiot she was?_ Felicity cast an anxious look over at Oliver, who seemed to be doing his best to hide a smile.

"Carol was on the masculine side, but still, after I helped her tweak her wardrobe and makeup, I have to say I've seen homier women out there," said Donna easily. She smiled at Felicity. "And you were a very innocent child, incredibly smart, but innocent. You've always taken people at face value. I love that about you, honey."

"It's one of your most outstanding qualities," agreed Oliver readily. He smiled warmly at Felicity. "And you have a lot to pick from."

Felicity gave him an uneven smile, glad for the support. Why did her mother always feel the need to share every little thing about her life? Felicity knew she could run off at the mouth sometimes too, but that was different. Totally different.

"So, Oliver, you and my little girl, huh?"

Oliver turned his head to look at Donna and smiled. "Yes, absolutely, Felicity and me."

"How serious is it?" asked a forthright Donna.

"Mom," groaned Felicity, blushing.

Oliver took Felicity's hand. "Very serious, Donna. I love her."

Donna looked between them with interest. "When?"

"I'm sorry?" asked Oliver.

"When did you love my daughter?" asked Donna calmly. "When did you fall in love with her? I mean, you've known each other for a few years now. Why now?"

"I fell in love with Felicity slowly, and then all at once," said Oliver quietly.

Felicity looked at him in surprise for that description.

Oliver gave that endearing smile of his. "I stole that description, it isn't mine, but it is true." He looked at Felicity, expression full of unabashed awe. "When I first met Felicity, I was like this concrete dam, holding back the water which was everything and everyone around me. From the first moment we met, Felicity, she was like some of that water finding its way into the parts of my concrete which hadn't completely hardened yet. And over time, more and more cracks appeared until that whole concrete wall I'd built up just disintegrated around me and I was free." Oliver squeezed her hand tightly. "Free to love and be loved like I always wanted to be." His crooked smile was back. "A little bit at a time, and then all at once," Oliver repeated softly.

Felicity bit her bottom lip, overwhelmed by Oliver's words.

Donna made an approving clucking sound. "That's what a mother wants to hear." Even so, her expression was very intent as she looked at Oliver.

Felicity tensed, knowing her mother was wondering if it was all just a little too smooth on Oliver's behalf.

"That's not why I said it," said Oliver sincerely. "It's just the truth."

"You come with quite the reputation," noted Donna.

"Mom!"

Oliver gave Felicity an unflustered look. "It's okay, it's a fair comment." He held Donna's gaze steadily. "My past, I've made a lot of mistakes, Donna… a lot. I wish I could undo them but I can't. All I can do is learn from those mistakes, and do my best not to repeat them."

"I'm not worried about Oliver's past," said Felicity determinedly.

"Of course you're not, honey," said Donna indulgently. "You're not a mother." Her gaze ran over Felicity.

The blush was back on Felicity's cheeks. "I'm not pregnant," said Felicity hotly.

"I know."

Felicity was put out by the readiness of Donna's acknowledgement of that fact. There was just something about being with her mother that made her regress and want to be contrary, no matter what. "I could be," said Felicity defiantly.

Oliver inclined his head, and gave a small grimace. "Well…"

Donna's eyes lit up with interest. "You're not sleeping together." It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact.

Felicity sent a furious glare Oliver's way. "This conversation wouldn't be happening if you'd stuck to the weather and lemurs," she hissed. "Look what you've done."

Donna shook her head. "What's so bad about your mother knowing if you're being intimate with a man or not?"

"Can you _hear_ your own question?" asked Felicity in dismay. "Don't you have any boundaries at all?"

Donna waved away her concern. "We're just chatting. Adults chat about adult things." She arched an eyebrow. "And being an adult, you should know that."

Okay, her mother had cornered her. Felicity couldn't protest any more without coming across as childish. _Damn but the woman was good_. She should be running some kind of evil genius academy.

"And Oliver doesn't mind," said Donna calmly. "Do you, Oliver?"

"You've put him on the spot, Mom," said Felicity in vexation. "What's he meant to say?"

Oliver moved her hand over into his lap, and his tone was reassuring. "Donna, I don't mind at all talking about these matters with you, but I can tell you, if I was doing this with my Mom… well, it wouldn't exactly be my favorite kind of conversation." He smiled at Felicity. "I get where Felicity is coming from, and I'd like to respect her wishes to keep that side of our private lives just that, private."

Felicity stared at him. Okay, this man was a superhero in more ways than one.

"I was sorry to read about your mother's passing, Oliver," said Donna quietly. "That was a really terrible thing that happened to you and your sister."

Felicity saw the pain flicker across Oliver's face. "It happened to my mother, not to us."

"No, honey," said Donna sympathetically, "death happens to those who are left behind. For those that are passed, there is no more pain. Your mother's death happened to you and your sister. How are you both coping?"

Oliver looked touched by her mother's concern. His voice was a little uneven as he replied. "We're doing okay," he said softly. "We have each other." Oliver looked at Felicity. "And we have people we love in our lives, and people who love us." He gave a small, pained smile. "But I do miss her."

Felicity rubbed his arm, knowing Oliver was still fighting demons over how things had ended for his mother.

"Of course you do," said Donna understandingly. "Were you two close?"

Oliver hesitated. "We were… complicated." The sad smile was back. "But we loved each other a lot, not perfectly, but a lot."

Donna nodded, seeming to approve of his answer.

Oliver was right, he really was good with moms.

Donna was back on her fact finding mission. She looked at Felicity. "Tell me about your life in Starling City. You're always so sketchy about the details."

"That's because my life is boring," said Felicity quickly. "I get up, go to work, come home again, go to sleep. That's kinda it."

Donna looked between the two of them. "And where does Oliver fit into that schedule?"

Oliver leant over and put his hand on Felicity's back. "Obviously we see each other at work, and then most nights are date night these day." His look was teasing at Felicity. "At least, that's my game plan."

"I saw the Aquarium date," said Donna. "Hopefully your other dates aren't quite as high exposure."

Felicity was blushing again. "No, obviously not."

"Actually," volunteered Oliver, "one of the things I'm keen to do with Felicity is teach her to swim."

"Oh, that would be great," said Donna in earnest. "It worries me so that she can't swim."

"I don't get what the big deal about me not being able to swim is," said Felicity in exasperation. "I avoid water, no problem."

"You drive over water every day on your way to work," argued Oliver. "If you go off the bridge for any reason—"

"Why are you obsessed with me falling off of bridges all the time?" said Felicity in mild ire. "I've never fallen off a bridge in my life. I'm never going to fall of one, and even if I do, I have a game plan."

Oliver snorted. "What, wait for your imaginary fish guy to save you?"

"Maybe," said Felicity defiantly.

"Oh," said Donna with a little shudder, "not the imaginary friend thing again. Mr. Thumbs used to freak me out."

Oliver was looking curious again. "Mr. Thumbs?"

"He was Felicity's imaginary friend when she was eight," said Donna. "He turned up just after her father left. The child psychiatrist said it was a normal coping mechanism, but it still creeped me out. Particularly when I'd walk by her room and she was talking back and forth with someone who wasn't there."

"I've never seen a child psychiatrist," protested Felicity.

"Yes, you did. You remember Gary."

Felicity frowned. "Gary was one of your boyfriends."

"No, he was a child psychiatrist I found in the phone book, and I paid him to spend some time with you. You know, make sure you were okay and all."

"I don't believe this!" exclaimed Felicity.

"Honey, it was no big deal. He said you were just fine and coping in your own way."

Felicity put a stricken hand to her head at this latest revelation. "My whole childhood is nothing but a thin tissue of lies and misconceptions!"

Donna rolled her eyes. "You'll have to excuse my daughter, Oliver," she said. "Felicity can get a little overdramatic at times."

"Okay, seriously, me, _I'm_ the overdramatic one?" exclaimed Felicity. "This from the woman who nearly got into a fist fight with the adjudicator at the Little Tap Princess Talent Show?"

"You can tap dance?" asked Oliver with interest. "Really?"

"No, that was a hundred years ago," said Felicity. "I wasn't that good."

"You were great," insisted Donna.

"I got a runner up… once," said Felicity. "I don't think I had a huge career in front of me somehow."

"That judge was clearly anti-Semitic," said Donna hotly. "You should have gotten first place, not runner up. You were adorably and way more talented than that flat footed Aashley Bunning with two A's." She gave a snort. "How pretentious is that? What, giving your daughter an incorrectly spelt name is supposed to make you better than other people, how exactly?"

"Mom, Avraham Sheinfeld wasn't anti-Semitc," said Felicity in frustration. "Obviously. I just got beaten, fair and square."

Donna wasn't about to let herself be convinced. "The whole thing was rigged, from start to finish. Believe me, I wasn't the only mother saying so."

"No, but you were the only woman who scalped a man over it," said Felicity flatly.

"I'm sorry?" asked Oliver, clearly trying very hard not to laugh at the whole thing. "Who got scalped?"

"Nobody," said Donna emphatically. "We were doing a sweeping exit—"

"_You_ were doing a sweeping exit," grumbled Felicity. "I was just there because you were my ride home." She looked at Oliver. "I was six."

Oliver's lips were twitching wildly. "Probably a wise move then."

"So, I was doing this sweeping exit, letting everyone know what I thought of their nepotism riddled little show when one of my heels got caught in the curtain. I accidentally brought down the whole thing."

"And that's when someone was scalped?" asked Oliver.

Donna shook her head. "No, that's when the curtain came down on top of the ladies who were handing out the prizes. One of the trophies shot out of one of the lady's hands and landed in the punch bowl."

It was obvious Oliver was still confused.

Felicity grimaced. "Punch spilt on the floor, and when Mr. Sheinfeld ran to help with the curtain situation he slipped. He hit the ground, but in the process, his toupee came flying off and landed in the cupcakes." She wrinkled her nose. "Not unsurprisingly, no one really wanted any cupcakes after that."

"I see," said Oliver, his face going a little red, shoulders shaking as he attempted to hold back his obvious mirth. "That makes complete sense. Could happen to anyone."

"No, it could only happen to us," said Felicity darkly. "It was so embarrassing."

"Oh please," said Donna. "What do we care about what those people think about us?"

"I was six, Mom. I cared."

"Honey, you can spend your whole life tying yourself up in knots to please other people, but it won't make you happy." Donna patted her arm. "And I want you to be happy."

"Then can we change the subject about past embarrassing situations?" pleaded Felicity. "Did you know that lemurs can only be found in Madagascar outside of zoos?"

"Yes, darling, everyone knows that," said Donna blithely.

Felicity's shoulders sagged. "Oh… umm… well, did you know lemurs—"

"I'm not having a conversation with you about lemurs," said Donna wryly.

"Okay, well, I heard that we're going to be heading into a dry year in the coming months—"

Donna looked over at Oliver. "Isn't she adorable?"

Oliver grinned. "Incredibly."

"Do you know what would be adorable?" demanded Felicity, her look pointed at Oliver. "You having my back with this one."

Oliver gave her a soppy grin. "I love you."

"Don't blind me with your pretty declarations of love," sniffed Felicity, but she was having trouble hiding her smile. "Run some interference." She paused. "Wait, is that right? I'm not great with sports. Did I get the right context when I asked you to interfere with my mother?" Felicity's eyes went wide. "Oh no," she gasped in distress. "I don't want you to interfere with my mother!"

Oliver was obviously biting down on his inner cheek very hard. "I assumed," he said, voice slightly strangled as he valiantly held back the laughter.

"Mom," said Felicity in a panic, "don't say anything!"

"What do you want me to not say?" asked Donna innocently.

"Some crack about you not minding if Oliver interfered with you," said Felicity in distress.

"Don't need to, you just did."

Felicity blinked, realizing she'd just let that particular hand grenade off herself. "Oh God, I think I've had too much sugar. I can't think straight."

"Maybe you haven't had enough?" suggested Donna brightly. She picked up the box of toffees and offered them to her. "Toffee?"

Felicity stared at the offered sticky treat. Even if more sugar wasn't the answer, at least she'd find it difficult to talk, and clearly that was going to be a good thing. Felicity picked up three toffees and shoved them in her mouth, praying for a diabetic coma or permanent muteness. She didn't mind which at that moment.

**A/N****: So, round one with Felicity's mum… I think Donna kinda won that round, don't you? Lol It's a lot of fun to write for their dynamic and I think most kids do find there is an amount of regression that goes on when you spend time with a parent. You kind of can't help it. I like seeing the elements of things Felicity inherited from her mum, and what she developed in response to her mother and their life together. These two women love each other very much, and ultimately I'm going to bring that out between them. In the meantime though, I couldn't resist having a little fun with poor old Felicity. It makes a nice change from torturing Roy and Oliver. ;) **

**Round two of Mama Smoak is up next. Hope you'll join me for it. :D **


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N****: Wow, huge response for the last chapter. Thank you so much, guys! I think I found out that Mama Smoak is a ratings winner – much like the actual show did. Lol I was planning on bringing her back later in the story anyways, but this definitely cinched it. ;) I've already written a little scene with Donna and a certain someone that made me smile. Can't wait to share it… even though it's going to be awhile until we get there. Because, you know, it's me. **

**This chapter has a more serious note to it, but I think it's an important chapter for reasons you'll see soon enough. **

**Okay, been up since before 5am this morning, only had a couple of hours sleep, so, once again, I am sans anything intriguing to say. So, it's better to remain silent and be thought a fool than open your mouth and remove all doubt. Advice I'm going to follow… this one time… after that, it's probably going to be back to regular form. Still having trouble with the muse though. Haven't completed a chapter in weeks. Not good. Trying not to panic. Doing okay so far, but I have developed a nervous twitch. It'll probably go away eventually… after heavy medication. **

**And now, more Mama Smoak…**

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN **

"How's the coffee?"

Oliver smiled as he swallowed his mouthful of the hot beverage. "It's great. Quite an achievement for a hospital facility." It was just the two of them right then. One of the facility's administrators had turned up, and asked to see Felicity to sort some paperwork out. Felicity hadn't exactly been thrilled about leaving him alone with her mother, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. She'd promised she wouldn't be long. He'd told her to take her time, which earned him a warning look.

Donna laughed. "I know. It was the thing I was most worried about when I came here. You know, after being able to walk again."

"It's wonderful you're doing so well in your recovery," said Oliver warmly. "Felicity was just so worried about you."

"I know," she said huskily. "I didn't mean to frighten her like that, but it really wasn't my fault." Donna shrugged. "Drunk drivers, what are you gonna do?"

"Prosecute them to the full extent of the law?" suggested Oliver flatly. He had no patience for people who were stupid enough to drink and drive.

"There is that." Donna took a sip of her coffee, and then looked around her tastefully decorated room that had everything a person could possibly want. "I have to say though, if you're going to be stuck somewhere, this place is the place to be. It's like being in a five star hotel, and the people just couldn't be lovelier."

"I'm glad they're treating you so well here, and that you're comfortable."

Donna regarded him over the top of her coffee cup. "I suppose I should thank you for that."

Oliver frowned. "No, why would you?"

"Because it's Queen money that's paying for the lifestyle to which I've become accustomed," said Donna calmly.

"You're insurance is paying for—"

"I couldn't afford the premiums on an insurance which would get me this." Donna rested her coffee cup on her lap. "Don't let the blonde hair fool you, Oliver. I can read and I did read my insurance policy before I signed it. I don't have the luxury of being careless with my money. I now the insurance policy wouldn't have paid me out enough to even drive by this place, let alone set up residence for a couple of months." She arched an eyebrow. "I also know Felicity doesn't have that kind of money lying around, so, that kind of leaves one person."

Oliver knew he was busted. "It felt like the right thing to do," he said simply.

"You know, my life, it hasn't always been easy, but I'm not a charity case," said Donna firmly. "I've stood on my own two feet, raised a daughter, and made a life for myself. I'm not in the habit of taking handouts."

"That isn't what this was," said Oliver quickly, hoping he hadn't offended her. He just wasn't as hung up on money as so many other people were. It probably came from having so much of the stuff, but Oliver honestly didn't give a crap about it from his point of view. If he could help people with it, give them job security, or provide a service, than that was great. Oliver had lived with and without money. He just didn't attach that much significance to it. "Paying for this place wasn't about charity, Donna." Oliver frowned. "Please don't even think about insisting on paying me back."

"I'm not," said Donna breezily.

"Oh," said Oliver, a little surprised. "Okay, that's good."

"When my daughter first got a job with Queen Consolidated, I bought some stocks in the company." Donna smiled proudly. "I wanted to support my baby." She wrinkled her nose. "But then that horrible attack happened in the Glades, and all those poor people died." Donna shook her head. "Those stocks and five dollars still wouldn't have bought me a cup of coffee. I took kind of a hit on that one."

"I'm sorry, Donna," said Oliver unhappily. "That was not a great time for Queen Consolidated."

"I know and you've done a wonderful job of turning the company around despite everything." She paused. "But I'm taking this—" Donna waved at their surrounds. "As reimbursement for my stocks. I think that's fair." She tilted her head. "Don't you?"

Oliver grinned at this resourceful woman's take on things. He could absolutely see where Felicity got her unique take on life. "More than fair," he agreed readily. Oliver was just relieved Donna wasn't going to insist on paying him back. That was the last thing he wanted.

Donna picked up a plate of cookies by her bed, and held them out to him. "Cookie?"

Oliver waved them off. "No, thank you, I don't have much of a sweet tooth."

"The complete opposite of my daughter," said Donna wryly, as she took one of the cookies for herself. "Why do I feel like you're opposite in a lot of other ways, as well?"

Oliver inclined his head. "I like to think we're the same in the places that matter the most."

"And what would those be?" Donna dipped her cookie into her coffee, but her intent gaze didn't leave his.

"I think we have the same fundamental belief system. We want to find a way to make the world a better place together. We believe in being honest with one another, in the importance of family and friends… the importance of love in a person's life."

Donna nodded slowly. "Okay."

Oliver put down his coffee cup, and fixed Donna with a sincere look. "Donna, I was the one who pushed to meet you today."

Donna gave a little smile. "You don't say."

"It was very important to me that we meet in person so I could tell you how completely and utterly serious I am about Felicity," he said earnestly. "I love her. I want to build a life with Felicity."

Donna looked at him. "Are you talking marriage?"

"Very much so."

"Children."

Oliver's smile was crooked. "I hope so."

"How many?"

"Children?" Oliver was a little on the spot. He couldn't get Felicity to talk about one without freaking out. "At least two. I love having a sister. I'd like my kids to have siblings, if possible." He gave a crooked smile. "But that would depend on Felicity, obviously."

"I always wanted a brother or sister for Felicity," said Donna wistfully. "I love being a mother. It's the most amazing thing in the world."

"You're very good at it."

Donna gave a dry laugh. "I don't know if my daughter would agree with me."

"Yes, she would. I can see you two have your moments, but I can also see how much you love each other."

Donna was watching him carefully. "Why do you love my daughter?"

Oliver gave a hopeless shrug of his shoulders. "How can I not love her? Felicity is smart and kind and funny and brilliant. She's fierce and fragile and hopeful." He shook his head, knowing he could run adjectives off all day when it came to Felicity. "She is amazing, and I can't imagine my world without her… I wouldn't have a world without her."

Donna looked thoughtful as she continued to regard him.

"This isn't a line, Donna," said Oliver. "Felicity, she means everything to me. I just want to make her happy."

"Can you though?"

Donna's question caught Oliver off guard. "Ah…"

She put her coffee cup down on the table beside them. "Here's the thing, Oliver, I look at you and I can see one thing more clearly than anything else."

"What's that?" asked Oliver hesitantly.

"You're broken," said Donna simply.

Oliver blinked, not sure what to say to that astute assessment of him.

She half-smiled. "Want to know how I know?" Donna didn't give him a chance to respond. "Because I'm broken too. Like recognizes like." She shook her head. "How we got here, how we ended up like we did, that can feel like a mystery sometimes, because it was never our plan." Donna was holding his gaze again, those blue eyes, so much like Felicity's and full of determination. "But what I do know is that Felicity is drawn to broken people. She wants to fix us. That's her big heart wanting to take away other people's pain."

Oliver sat back in his chair. "You think that's why Felicity is with me? Because she wants to fix me?" That was an unsettling thought.

"My daughter always sees the possibilities in things and people. It's part of the reason she's so clever and so hopeful." Donna cocked her head. "And yes, I think it's part of the reason she's drawn to you. Not the only reason, but she sees in you a light, and can't help but want to help that light come out."

"I don't want to be Felicity's project," said Oliver painfully.

Donna laughed. "You're not, any more than she is yours. I'm just saying, that for the longest time Felicity was always trying to fix me after her father left us. She knew I was in pain, and her first instinct was to take that pain away. It's who she is." Donna looked away briefly. "Of course, that's no job for a child – fixing a parent. I tried to protect her as best I could from it all, but I know it left a mark. These things just do."

"I don't want Felicity to fix me," insisted Oliver. "That's not why I'm with her."

"But she is anyways, isn't she?" Donna gave a small smile. "Just the way her love fixed me in a lot of ways. I had this gorgeous little girl to protect and love. I couldn't fall to pieces. I had to keep on going. Felicity gave me that strength to keep on going." She looked thoughtful. "I never thought of myself as a strong person until I was suddenly a single mother, but raising Felicity, it made me realize that I was, and always had been." Donna was back holding his gaze again. "And I suspect that is what Felicity is to you as well. She has a way of showing people who they really are… and making them want to live up to that."

Oliver nodded slowly. "Yes, she does," he said softly.

"It's a gift, and I want to be sure that she's giving that gift to the right man." Donna folded her hands in front of her. "You can understand that, can't you?"

"Absolutely," said Oliver quickly.

"Are you the right man, Oliver?"

"If you're asking me if I deserve Felicity's love, than no, I don't," said Oliver honestly. "I have done so many things in my life that I'm ashamed of, that I wish I'd done differently…"

"Welcome to humanity, Mr. Queen," said Donna wryly.

Oliver gave a self-deprecating smile. "I think I may have more reasons than most in that regard. For a long time my life was bad… really bad, and I'd just come to accept that was how my life was going to be." He drew in an unsteady breath. "And then I met Felicity and for the first time in what felt like forever, I saw something good. I saw a person who made me feel like my life could be different… that I could be different. It took me a while to work out what was happening, but now that I have, it's all I can see. Felicity is all I can see. I don't want to be this burden to Felicity that she always has to bolster up and show the way to. I want to be her partner in every sense of the word. When she falls, I want to be there to pick her up. When Felicity flies, I want to be there to cheer her on, and to share all the other million mundane things that happen in between those two things. I want a life with her, a real, meaningful life, Donna, where she share the burden and the joys of that life, together, as a team."

"Is my daughter safe with you, Oliver?"

He'd been dreading this question, because Oliver knew the answer was no. Felicity wasn't safe with him. His world was dangerous and unpredictable and loving Felicity put her squarely in the middle of that. Oliver couldn't say that to Donna, but he didn't want to lie either. "I would give my life to protect, Felicity," he said without hesitation. "There is nothing I wouldn't do to keep her safe." _Except let her go._ The thought struck a chord of guilt deep inside of him.

"There are two things you should know about Smoak women, Oliver," said Donna quietly. "One you already know."

"That they make bad choices in men." Oliver gave a tight smile, understanding why Felicity's mother would be putting him in that category. _Hell, he put himself in that category long ago._ "I remember."

"There is a flip side to that. We get it wrong 99% of the time, but that 1% when we get it right…" Donna gave a soft smile. "We get it _very_ right." She held up two fingers. "And number two, we Smoak women love with every fiber of our beings. We don't know how to do anything by halves. When we let ourselves love, it's forever and it's ferocious."

That sounded like heaven to Oliver. "That's what I'm banking on," he said unevenly. "Because that's how I love too."

Felicity suddenly burst into the rooms. "Okay, I'm back," she announced loudly, and a little breathlessly. Clearly she'd practically run back from her meeting with the administrators. "Did anything happen while I was away?" Felicity's expression became stricken. "Please say no."

"We were just comparing war wounds," said Donna casually, as though the intensity of their previous conversation hadn't happened.

"Not like… literally, right?" asked Felicity hesitantly as she walked into the room. "Please tell me you didn't show Oliver your C-section scar, Mom?"

"I labored for two days and still ended up with a scar," sighed Donna. "Felicity was wedged in there all funny. She just wouldn't come out." Donna rolled her eyes. "Ironic really, considering she can't get away from me quick enough these days."

"Mom, that's not true," said Felicity in exasperation. "I love you. Of course I love spending time with you."

"That's lucky," said Donna brightly, "because Oliver just got word that you're jet has a technical problem, and you're not going anywhere today."

"Oh my God!" exclaimed a distressed Felicity.

Donna kept a straight face. "I don't know if we can fit three in the bed, but it's a pretty big bed—"

"You're not sleeping with my boyfriend when I haven't even done it yet!" said Felicity hotly.

"So, what," asked Donna innocently, "after you have, it'll be fine to?"

"Boundaries, Mom, boundaries!"

Oliver couldn't keep a straight face any longer. He reached an arm up from where he was still sitting in the chair, and put it around Felicity's waist. "Your mom is just teasing you, sweetheart," he said in amusement. "The jet is fine."

Felicity jabbed a finger at her mother. "That was _not_ funny!"

Donna giggled. "Then why are Oliver and I laughing?"

Felicity folded her arms in front of herself. "Because you both enjoy torturing me?" she huffed.

Oliver drew Felicity down onto his lap. She resisted for a moment, but he was persistent. "Your mom and I were just having a discussion about how utterly amazing you are, and how you only deserve the best." Oliver stole a quick kiss. "And that I'm determined to give you just that."

Felicity put her arm along Oliver's shoulders, settling in more comfortably. "And that's it?" she asked, looking slightly more mollified.

"What else is there?" asked Oliver.

"I don't know, Mom volunteering unnecessary information at random. Like how I once got trapped in one of those claw game things in a bowling alley."

"Oh, that's right," laughed Donna. "I forgot about that. Little Miss Inquisitive here had to know how the whole thing worked. The next thing I know, I turn around and there is my little girl sitting on top of a pile of stuffed animals inside a glass box. They had to call the fire department to get her out."

"Yep," said Felicity flatly, "another highlight of my early life."

"She made the news," said Donna proudly. "There was a picture and everything."

Felicity sighed heavily as Oliver tried to contain his laughter. He hugged her closer to him. "It is impossible for you to be any cuter to me than you currently are, Felicity Smoak."

"A woman doesn't want to be cute, she wants to be sexy and exotic," said Felicity in vexation.

"The way you do cute is both of those things." He smiled up at her adoringly. "And I'm going to leave it there because we're not alone, and the rest of what I want to say should probably be said without witnesses." Oliver gave her a cheeky look.

Felicity blushed. "Probably," she agreed readily.

"One of the things your mother and I didn't get around to discussing was that as soon as she's able to fly, she might want to come out and visit with us." Oliver felt Felicity tense a little.

"Oh, I'd love that," said Donna in delight.

"Oh well, I'd love that too, obviously," she said, looking a little flustered. "But, well, you know how busy we are, Oliver. I don't want Mom coming all that way for me to just abandon her." Felicity looked at her mother. "And besides, I've only got the one bedroom—"

"My place has lots of bedrooms," volunteered Oliver. "Some of them I haven't been in for years."

Felicity looked at him in disbelief. "In what universe is my mother going to visit me and stay at my boyfriend's house?"

"One, it's more of a mansion than a house, so there is plenty of room." Oliver hesitated. "And two, I was kind of hoping that by the time for Donna's visit rolled around that you and I would—"

"What?" asked Felicity, looking at him blankly.

"I was kind of hoping that we might be living together by that stage," offered up Oliver, watching her intently.

"Living together?"

Oliver could tell he'd caught her off guard. "Yes."

"We haven't talked about living together," said Felicity unevenly.

"I know, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't something I wanted."

Felicity blinked. "You-you mean give up my house?"

"Well… there wouldn't be a huge reason to keep it," he reasoned. "But that would be up to you, of course." Oliver squeezed her to him. "It's okay, Felicity, no decisions have to be made about this right now. I just wanted to let you know what I was thinking."

"Right," she said unsteadily. "Okay, good, thanks."

It occurred to Oliver that he was putting a lot more forward planning into their relationship than Felicity was. She was still holding back on him, and Oliver tried not to be frustrated by that fact.

"Well, I don't mind where I stay," said Donna happily. "It'd just be nice to see more of my baby girl." She looked at Oliver. "And her partner, of course."

Donna's specific use of the word 'partner' was very pointed. They exchanged a look that told Oliver that Donna accepted what he'd told her about his desire to live up to his words about being true partners with Felicity, in every sense of the word. It was a huge relief to him, not least of which because Oliver had been completely sincere. He relaxed against Felicity, pleased with how today had gone, despite the few curveballs Donna had thrown him. It was another step closer to getting Felicity to trust him completely and discovering her world. Now he just needed to hear Felicity tell him she loved him, out loud, and his life would be perfect.

A/N: Okay, how was that for everyone? A little heart to hear with Mama Smoak. We all know Felicity got her smarts from somewhere and there are all different kinds of smarts. ;) I think Oliver did okay… although Mama Smoak possibly gave him some food for thought. I wonder what he's going to do with that. Guess we'll find out.

Okay, so, time to do another preview of the next three chapters. Avert you gaze for those who don't want to know…

**SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS **

Chapter 19 – The Epiphany x2

Chapter 20 – The Rematch

Chapter 21 – The Lunch Date

**SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS**

Hope you'll all join me… :D


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N****: Hi guys, I just wanted to take a moment to thank all the people who take the time to favourite this story and/or me. The people who review, you know how I feel about you, that's why I take turns in sleeping under each and every one of your beds. There's a roster system and everything. I leave nothing to chance in showing my utter adoration and appreciation to every one of you. 3 That's why I leave a handful of chest hairs in your bed every time I stay over. So you can feel that love in all its prickly and vaguely itchy glory. **

**But this time round, I do want to thank all my faves/followers. To me, it's like I'm walking along in a forest, and I know all these eyes are watching me from the bushes, and then suddenly, one of you leaps out, throws your scent on me, so you can find me again, and then dash back off into the bushes. Just like those lemurs with their scent glands marking their territory. They squirt butt juices all over their favourite things, so they can find them again. I feel deeply honoured to be covered in each and every one of your butt juices. :D And I mean that very sincerely… even if no one will sit next to me on the bus anymore due to the slightly heady musk I'm now giving off. It's a small price to be paid for knowing you want to keep me as one of your fave things. Awesome! **

**The muse has returned briefly to this story. I'm trying not to make any sudden movements or make direct eye contact because I don't want to spook her. I've been just stalling at writing this complicated action scene and it's been driving me nuts… plus I'm getting a bit of a hankering to start writing Sleepy Hollow fics again, so that's distracted me somewhat. I've made inroads into the action scene, so I'm feeling a little bit better about things. Hopefully the trend will continue and I'll pick up some steam as we go along. **

**And in the meantime, we have this chapter. Epiphanies abound in this chapter, one of them in particular long overdue, I hope you'll enjoy that. I shall say no more about this chapter, just let you read it, and then catch up at the end briefly…**

**Cheerio…! **

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

Oliver cut the engine of his car, and undid his seatbelt. "Stay here, okay? I'll just be a minute."

Felicity gave him a wary look. "What are you up to? You've been making mysterious phone calls all day." Even when they'd been with her mother earlier that day, Oliver had to excuse himself to take a call, and it didn't seem like a business one to Felicity.

He leant over and gave her a quick kiss. "It's a surprise. Be right back."

Felicity smiled, and settled back in her seat, content to let Oliver do whatever he was doing. She looked out the window at the carpark of the miniature golf course and thought about their day together. It had been… amazing. And what was amazing about it was how, after having dreaded it so much, it had turned out to be a good day after all. Felicity chewed on the inside of her bottom lip, thinking about that last conversation she'd had with her mother.

"_I'm sorry," said Oliver, holding his cell phone to his chest as he looked at the other two women, "I've just got to take this. Excuse me." _

_Felicity nodded. "Okay." Oliver hurried out of her mother's room, and then she and her mom were alone._

_Donna smiled at her. "Thank you for coming and seeing me, honey. It was a really nice visit." _

"_It was, wasn't it?" Felicity wrinkled her nose. "Sorry I was a bit of a pain in the beginning." She shifted a little in her seat. "I guess I was just anxious…" _

"_About your mother's crazy spilling over onto your relationship?" finished off Donna sweetly. _

_Felicity grimaced, feeling bad now. "No, that's not it…"_

"_It's okay, honey, I know I can be a bit over the top sometimes." _

"_I love that about you, Mom," protested Felicity. _

_Donna's expression was decidedly skeptical. _

"_Okay, it's evenly split between love and total embarrassment," admitted Felicity. She gave a little smile. "But I wouldn't change anything about you. You're my mom, and I love you." _

"_I love you too, Felicity." _

"_It's just I get a little anxious when it comes to Oliver," she said unevenly, feeling the need to explain her behavior. "I was a real child about coming out to Las Vegas and seeing you because—" _

"_Because?" asked Donna curiously. _

"_Because Oliver says he loves me." _

"_You don't think he does?" _

"_No, I do, but he's in love with the Felicity he knows, but he doesn't know everything about me." _

_Donna arched an eyebrow. "Do you know everything about him?" _

"_No." _

"_But you're not worried about no longer loving him if and when you do find out other things. I'm not sure why Oliver wouldn't be exactly the same when it comes to you." _

_Felicity rubbed her arm. "Oliver sees me a certain way… and I don't want to jinx that." _

_Donna shook her head at her. "Do you honestly think that Oliver's love isn't robust enough to take on a few curve balls?" _

"_He finds stories about me being trapped in arcade games cute and amusing. We both know I've got a curveball in my past that he isn't going to find so easy to laugh about." _

"_And he shouldn't." _

_Felicity slumped a little in her chair. "Way to be encouraging, Mom." _

"_Look, honey, what happened, happened. You can't change it, you can't rewrite history, any more than Oliver can with his mistakes. It was just one of those things." _

_Felicity's expression was wry. "You weren't this sage about the whole thing when it happened." _

_Donna's look was pointed. "Wasn't that kind of the point?" _

_Felicity flushed with a combination of embarrassment and shame. "Yes," she mumbled. Her expression became stricken. "I was so horrible to you, Mom. How did you put up with me?" _

_Donna just laughed, and held out her arms. "Come here." _

_Felicity reluctantly stood up, and sat on the side of the bed, moving into her mother's tight embrace. She didn't really feel like she deserved it after how petulant she'd been for most of the visit. _

"_Felicity, I love you. You're not perfect, but you're perfect to me, and that's what matters." Donna patted her hair as Felicity laid her head on her mom's chest. "Just like you and Oliver. Stop trying to be perfect for him, and just be perfect together." _

"_Isn't that the same thing?" mumbled Felicity. _

"_Bacon on it's own is great, but it's not sweet enough. Maple syrup on it's own is great, but it's not savory enough. Put those two together and you've got happiness on a plate." Donna made Felicity lift her head so she could hold her gaze intently. "I want you to be happy, Felicity. That's all I've ever wanted for you. Go and be happy with Oliver." _

_Felicity's heart skipped a beat. "So-so you like him? You approve?" Despite her vaguely crazed desire to keep her mother out of most aspects of her life, her mom's answer to this question was very important to her. _

"_I think that man of yours isn't all that he seems," said Donna knowingly. "I think he has secrets." Her expression soften. "But he is exactly what he seems when it comes to you, honey, and that's all I care about." Donna tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind Felicity's ear. "Don't be afraid of loving him." _

"_I'm afraid for Oliver's sake," said Felicity unsteadily. "I don't know how to do things by halves." _

"_You get that from me," said Donna proudly. _

"_I know," sighed Felicity. _

"_And you think if you love like I do, you'll end up with the life I had, is that it?" _

"_No." Felicity closed her eyes. "I don't know." _

"_I don't regret the way I loved your father, Felicity," said Donna quietly. "I regret he wasn't ever able to be the man I knew he could be, but I don't regret loving him or the way I did. I didn't make a mistake, he did." _

_Felicity blinked. "I-you've never told me that before." _

"_I never wanted you to think badly of your father," said Donna simply, still stroking her hair. "Because he wasn't a bad man. I wouldn't have loved him the way I did if he was." _

"_What was he like?" asked Felicity shakily. "I mean, I remember… but those are memories of a child. What was he like as a man?" _

"_Amazing, brilliant… lost." Donna's expression was a little sad. "We found each other for a time, but in the end, I think he preferred being lost." _

_Felicity frowned. "Who would prefer being lost?" _

"_Because sometimes people feel like it's better the devil you know," said Donna huskily. "For your dad, being lost meant he didn't have to ask as much of himself. He could be selfish and go his own way." _

_Felicity looked at her mother in concern. "I never really understood how hard it was for you when he left. I mean, I did, but I didn't." _

"_You're a woman now, honey," said Donna softly. "You love with a woman's heart, and you understand the stakes. Don't ever let anything that your father and I did wrong stop you from making your life as full and overflowing of possibilities as it can possibly be. Neither one of us wants that." _

_Felicity just stared at her. "You're an awesome mom," she said emotionally. _

_Donna just laughed. "I'm a mom who loves her daughter more than anything. There are a few of us around." _

"_There is only one you, Mom," said Felicity, tears pricking her eyes. "And I'm so glad you're mine." She hugged Donna tightly to her, feeling incredibly foolish about how she'd been avoiding this meeting. In fact, in that moment, Felicity felt foolish about a lot of things, including the whole trial dating thing with Oliver. She loved him, completely and utterly. Oliver loved her. Trying to keep any kind of boundaries or qualifications on those facts just seemed ridiculous. _

Felicity had been mulling those thoughts the whole rest of the day, even when Oliver had come to pick her up for their golf rematch. Talking to her mother had suddenly put everything in perspective for Felicity, plus hearing Oliver talking about their future, how he was already thinking about them living together. He really was all in when it came to the two of them and his certainty just made her hesitation seem all that more absurd. All that second guessing she'd been doing of Oliver and herself was gone. It was like she was emerging from this fog of her own making, and all around her was brilliant sunshine. A sunshine she didn't want to run from anymore. Felicity couldn't help the smile which came to her lips at that thought.

Oliver emerged from around the corner again, and trotted his way back over to the car. He grinned at her. "All set."

"What is?"

Oliver opened the car door and took her hand. "You'll see."

Felicity let him help her out of the car, and it was then something finally registered. "Where are all the other cars?"

Oliver kept hold of her hand as they walked down the path to the entrance of the mini-golf park. "There aren't any. The place is closed to the public tonight."

Felicity stopped walking. "Oh, then we can't go in."

Oliver just smiled at her. "We're not the public. I rented out the place for the night."

Felicity put her hand on his chest. "So nobody could see your humiliating defeat?" she surmised sympathetically. Felicity patted his chest. "Good thinking."

Oliver's smile broadened. "No, that's not it."

"Really? Because it's going to be bad tonight," she cautioned him. "I went easy on you last time. This time the gloves are off." Felicity couldn't get enough of teasing him.

"That isn't why I rented the place out," said an unfazed Oliver. He pursed his lips. "I originally had this idea, a way I could get the upper hand in this whole golf rematch thing, seeing as I haven't had time to practice or anything."

"You were going to cheat?" offered up Felicity sweetly.

"You wore those white shorts." Oliver couldn't seem to help his gaze from running appreciatively over her tanned legs. "You don't think that was a form of cheating? You know what they do to me, distraction wise."

"You asked me to wear these shorts," said Felicity in amused exasperation. "You practically begged me to."

"And I stand by that manly display of pleading," said Oliver with feigned seriousness. "I was just looking to level the playing field with booking out the golf course."

"By having no witnesses to you cheating?" asked Felicity in confusion. "I'll still know you're cheating, so how does that work?"

"I wasn't going to cheat," insisted Oliver. "I was going to level the play field."

"I still have no idea what that means."

There was a decidedly cheeky light in Oliver's eyes. "I was going to suggest we play strip miniature golf."

Felicity burst out laughing. "Oliver, this is a family friendly amusement park."

"I realize that, hence the me booking the whole place out part." He tapped his temple. "Up there for thinking, right?"

Felicity shook her head at him. "The way you play, you'd be naked by the end of the first hole."

He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. "Distracting, right?"

_And how_. Felicity grinned. "Your logic is faulty. Wouldn't that make me just try harder to win, seeing as I get the bonus of a naked Oliver Queen almost immediately, if I bring my A game."

Oliver stepped closer. "And is a naked Oliver Queen something you'd be interested in seeing, Ms. Smoak?" he asked throatily.

Felicity made a show of checking for her pulse in her wrist. "Well, I have a pulse, and I'm female, so yes, I guess I would be interested in that." She took a step closer too, toying with the front of his shirt, and looked up through her eyelashes at him. "_Very_ interested." Oliver had been so brilliant all day with her, his patience over her mother hysteria, his ease with actually meeting her mom. Between the two of them, Oliver and her mom had just dissolved away any last hesitation Felicity had about entering into this relationship wholeheartedly. She didn't want to wait anymore for anything.

Oliver's eyes flared at her cozying up to him, and his hand immediately came out to rest possessively on one bottom cheek. "That's good to know," he said unevenly.

"There are other things you should know too," said Felicity happily, but she didn't get to say what because Oliver was suddenly kissing her. Felicity responded wholeheartedly.

"Like that?" he rasped when he finally ended the kiss.

"Okay, yes," said Felicity breathlessly, "that's a good place to start."

Both of Oliver's hands had crept onto her bottom now, and he squeezed tightly. A small series of fireworks went off in Felicity's lower body, and she realized there was a good chance she wasn't going to be wearing these shorts for long. Not if she had anything to do with it. She went up on tip toes and pressed a series of kisses along his neck and jaw. Felicity felt Oliver give a little shudder against her, which only made her bolder, her own hand going to his backside now.

Oliver gave a strangled groan and then suddenly he was stepping back, breaking contact with her.

Felicity was a little disorientated. She blinked up at him. "What's wrong?"

Oliver drew in an unsteady breath, and looked like he was trying to collect himself. "Okay, so this whole strip mini-golf idea of mine, turns out there were a couple of issues with it that I hadn't entirely thought through."

"Like what?" asked a bewildered Felicity. Why weren't they kissing anymore? She wanted to be kissing him.

"Okay, first, after that aquarium date fiasco—"

"Don't call it that," said Felicity swiftly. "That night was perfect."

"Yes, until the rest of the world got to see how perfect it was." His tone became a somewhat heated. "How perfect you are." Oliver cleared his throat a little. "I am not going to open you up to even the possibility that there might be some paparazzi out there who's gotten wind of our date, and is going to find a way of taking photos of you again in any kind of state of undress. Not again."

"Assuming you were winning, and I'd be in any state of undress in the first place," said Felicity cheekily. She was touched by his concern about such things, but Felicity had reconciled herself to further paparazzi mishaps in her future. It was a small price to pay for being loved by Oliver.

Oliver inclined his head, taking her teasing in his stride. "Of course, assuming that. And the second thing was… well, something was pointed out to me recently, something about how I tend to be with women… I mean, the way I relate to them. It made me rethink my strategy—"

"Oh, you mean the fact sex is your go to move?" asked Felicity blithely. "Is that what we're talking about here?"

Oliver screwed up his face. "Really?" he said in disappointed resignation. "So… that's really a thing everyone thinks about me?" Oliver looked unhappy about that fact.

Felicity laughed away his concern. "Oliver, it's no big deal, honestly. You're a very sexy guy, you can't help it."

"I can bring other things to the table other than sex appeal," he said determinedly.

"I know."

Oliver pursed his lips. "You do?"

"Of course."

"Care to name what those things are?" asked Oliver with what Felicity assumed was his version of casualness. "You know, so we can compare notes."

She wrinkled her nose. "Really? You don't know?"

"I didn't say that," said Oliver hastily. "I said we should compare notes."

"Okay, you go first."

There was a long pause. "Fine, I don't have anything on my list."

Felicity couldn't help but laugh. "Well, you can put that on the list to start with."

Oliver was clearly confused. "What?"

"The way you don't really spend a lot of time thinking about yourself. You're always thinking about others."

"You make me sound like a saint." He lowered his voice, looking very intent. "I'm not a saint, Felicity."

"I never said that, but you have very selfless bent to your nature. It's very endearing."

"Selflessness?" Oliver said slowly. "That gets you the girl?"

"Every time," said Felicity huskily. "You're loyal, funny, protective, and you love very deeply."

"That's not exactly the same as being a good dancer or whatever," said Oliver in vague frustration. "It kind of reinforces that 'Oliver is no fun' myth that is doing the rounds."

Felicity moved closer again and put her hands on his chest. "It's better," she said quietly, "because you can't dance forever, and when the music stops, you want to be with a man who makes you feel like you're the only girl in the world for him." Felicity's eyes sparkled with love. "A man who is doesn't need any talents to make a girl want to spend the rest of her life with him."

"So… talentless, but not a complete loss, am I hearing that right?" asked Oliver a little unevenly.

Felicity gave a little frown. "Why are you being so hard on yourself all of a sudden?"

"It's not that," said Oliver earnestly. "It's just that all my previous relationships have been a complete and utter train wreck and I don't want to repeat any of the behavior I did with them, with you."

"Okay," said Felicity slowly. "I guess that makes sense."

"So, no strip miniature golf," said Oliver determinedly.

Felicity tried not to look disappointed by that fact. It wasn't easy.

He took her hand. "Instead, I'm going to beat you fair and square, using my excellent hand eye coordination and ability to pick things up quickly."

Oliver looked so earnest in his desire to do this. It was utterly adorable. He was utterly adorable. Felicity wanted to throw him to the ground and ravage the hell out of him. Instead she tried to rein in her raging libido, and she smiled, sweetly. "Okay."

Oliver gave a boyish smile in return. "And just so you know, when I hand that perfectly formed, luscious ass of yours to you—" He stopped sharply and grimaced. "Damn it, doing it again. No sex talk. No using sex to get the girl. You're better than that, Oliver."

Felicity had to bite down on her inner cheek really hard to stop from bursting out loud at Oliver's cute little speech to himself.

He took a deep breath. "Take two." A look of mock fierceness came over Oliver's face. "Okay, lady, I'm about to open a can of whip ass on you, so be prepared. I will be without mercy."

"I'm very afraid."

"You're smiling."

"I smile when I'm afraid," said Felicity, still smiling, "confusing, I know."

Oliver leaned in close, eyes narrowing with feigned menace but it was impossible not to see the mischief dancing in those blue depths. "Then be prepared to smile a lot tonight… and I mean a _lot_."

Felicity couldn't help herself from giggling like an idiot. Oliver was just being too endearing. "If you've decided against the whole strip golf thing, then why did you still book out the place?"

"It was too late to cancel by the time I had my epiphany," said Oliver casually. "So, I get you all to myself tonight."

"Good," said Felicity in satisfaction as she took his arm. "Let the opening of the whip ass begin." They started to walk.

"By me."

"If you say so."

"I do."

"We'll see."

"Yes, we will."

Felicity just smiled, having a strong feeling there were going to be no losers tonight, not if she had her way, that was for sure.

**A/N****: Okay, so finally, Felicity is all in… and it only took me 19 chapters to get here… if you don't count the three stories which preceded this one. Now, we just have to get Oliver to buy a clue… or even just rent one for long enough to let Felicity sex him up. Just as well he's so pretty, because sometimes he can be sssoooo obtuse. . Let's see how Felicity goes with seducing Oliver in the next chapter… and oh yeah, we'll have a miniature golf rematch thrown in there for good measure. ;) **


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N****: So, sorry about the tardy update. My week has been busy with acquiring puppies. My doggie, Pearl, isn't handling being an only child very well, particularly when I'm gone at work for up to 10 hours for two weeks in a row. So, I've been trying to find another silky terrier puppy. I like how they don't shed hair… unlike me… and Hank… and Fernando Del Vecchio. Tumble weeds of the stuff roll by at our house – so we don't need to add dog hair to the mix. Anyways, silkies are hard to come by – they're not as popular as other breeds these days. I did find one though, a little boy and he'll arrive in a couple of weeks. I'm excited, but also still feeling very sad about my dear little Mabel. Hopefully puppy will be a welcome distraction for both Pearl and myself. I'm thinking Harvey as a name… or Harry… or Bertie – I like my little old men names. I also organized a pugalier puppy for my sister, as she wanted a mate for her dog, Ollie. They'll arrive around the same time, so that should be a lot of fun. Back to hiding everything chewable in the house. **

**But, enough of my life. How are you all going… hmm… interesting… you should probably see a doctor about that if it gets any bigger… and whatever you do, don't scratch at it. **

**Right, back to me. Made it to through another 2 week stint of non-stop work, so don't expect too much for me in the way of brilliance with A/N's. I just kind of fall over the line come Friday. So, from my position face down on my sofa, here is the next chapter. I'd warn diabetics to take a hit of insulin, because there is a sweetness overload. Kazy, one of my lovely reviewers advised me she is stuffing her cheek pouches full of the fluffy chapters in preparation for the doom and gloom which is heading our way. It's a wise plan. I suggest others consider a similar strategy. Just sayin'. **

**But, before the disemboweling level of horror to come, enjoy some fluff, and worry about the bloodletting later. How's that sound? :D **

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

"Do I know you?"

Roy looked up from where he was quickly collecting empty glasses from the tables of the heaving Verdant to see Thea squinting at him.

She held up a hand. "Wait, don't tell me, it'll come to me."

"Thea," said Roy in regret, "I'm really sorry that I haven't been around much lately—"

"Is it Roger?" asked Thea. "Or Robbie… maybe Reggie? I just can't remember."

Roy came up to her. "I'm sorry, it's just that I've been really busy the last week or so."

"Doing what?" asked Thea.

"Work."

"You work here, Roy, at least, when you show up," said Thea in frustration.

"Ah… not here, my other job."

"You have a second job?"

Roy grimaced, not having meant to say that. "Umm… kinda."

"Where? Doing what?"

"It's kind of a security detail thing… for a guy."

"What kind of security, which guy?"

"You know, I signed a confidentiality agreement," lied Roy, really wishing he didn't have to. "I can't say." Okay, that was good. Why hadn't he thought about saying this before?

Thea shook her head at him. "You know, all these secrets… not a fan."

"I know," said Roy unhappily.

"Is this how it's always going to be between us?" asked Thea in frustration. "Is this our lives?"

"No," said Roy quickly. "Thea, no. Things will get better, I promise. Like I said, this job will be over in a couple of days and then I'm all yours." He smiled, hoping to coax the same out of her. "Okay?"

Thea wasn't to be drawn. "Okay until the next thing comes along, and you turn up with another car door handcuffed to you."

"That won't happen again," said Roy swiftly. He grimaced. "Kinda surprised it happened the first time, to be honest."

"Are you being honest, Roy?" Thea shook her head at him. "I just can't tell anymore."

"Thea, you can trust me about all the important things, like how I feel about you," said Roy earnestly.

"Feelings are great, Roy," said Thea quietly, "but if I can't rely on you—"

She left that last part hanging, and Roy didn't need to be a genius to work out what she was going to say next. "Don't give up on us, Thea," he said urgently. "It'll get better, I promise."

Thea nodded slowly, but she didn't exactly look convinced. Roy looked in anguish as she walked away. He really needed to do something about that. Losing Thea was not something he wanted.

"Hey, Harper."

Roy's attention was pulled from Thea's retreating back to see one of the bar girls looking up at him. "What's up, Asha? We out of vodka again?"

"No, it's all good," said the attractive brunette with streaks of pink through her long hair. "You see Felicity all the time, don't you?"

"I guess."

She handed him a manila envelope. "This is for her. Do you mind giving it to her for me?"

Roy turned it over in his hand. "What is it?"

"Don't know, some guy and girl came in earlier tonight looking for her."

"Who were they?"

"I don't know," said Asha in exasperation. "I didn't ask for the details. The bar was full, I was busy."

"What did they look like?"

"The girl had red hair, he was kinda tall, dark hair, geeky looking, but cute, you know?"

Roy frowned. "And what, they just asked for Felicity?"

"The guy did. I told him I hadn't seen her yet tonight, but that I probably would. He gave me the envelope to give to her." She cocked her head. "And now I've given it to you to give to Felicity. Duty discharged."

"Probably some Queen Consolidated stuff," covered Roy. He knew Felicity had some slightly odd contacts because of her side projects she was always working on, like the suit. Roy wasn't looking to advertise that fact.

"Hey, can I go early tonight?"

Roy looked at her, and then around at the crowd of people. "Ah…"

"It's my birthday, I'm twenty-five today," said Asha. She smiled. "My friends are taking me out to celebrate."

"When do you want to go?"

"I don't know, eleven?" offered up Asha. "Will that be okay?"

Roy knew he had to stay at Verdant for the night anyway, seeing as he was on Bunny duty that night while Diggle checked on the lawyer guy. "Yeah, sure, knock yourself out."

Asha grinned. "Thanks."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he cautioned her teasingly.

"Hey, it's my birthday, Harper," said Asha playfully. "If a girl can't get a little crazy on her birthday, then when can she?"

"Just be safe."

"Always," said Asha blithely, she turned to go. "Thanks again."

Roy sighed heavily and went back to collecting the shot glasses from the table. At least someone was going to have fun tonight.

**#**

Felicity and Oliver watched the little white ball roll up the hill with intense attention. It ran down the other side of the fake grass slope, and headed towards the giant clown's head which was periodically sticking its tongue in and out. The ball timed itself perfectly, rolling up onto that outstretched tongue only to disappear down the clown's throat. The two of them waited with bated breath to see where the ball would pop out. Beside her, Felicity could hear Oliver muttering under his breath.

"Come on, come on, come on."

She hid a smile at his avid focus as he waited to see his ball reappear. Oliver had accused her of turning mini-golf into a death sport last time, but he'd shown a level of determination and motivation during this rematch that a professional golf player would envy. In fact, for a man who hadn't had any time to practice, Oliver had lifted his game, a lot. He was right, he did pick up things quickly. Oliver still wasn't at her level, but Felicity had made sure to keep the game close. Dropping a shot here, missing a putt there. Just enough for the match to be much closer than it would be originally. Not enough that Oliver would become suspicious though. Oliver's ball popped out from underneath the clown's head and smoothly rolled its way to the final hole, disappearing inside.

"Yes!" shouted Oliver, leaping up into the air, hands above his head. He turned to Felicity, a huge grin all but encompassing his entire face. "Yes! In your face, Smoak!"

Felicity tried not to laugh at his excitement. "You haven't won yet," she said sweetly. "I still have to take my shot." They were neck in neck. If Felicity took this next shot and sunk the ball, she'd win the game. If she didn't, Oliver would win. The stakes were high. Mainly because Felicity knew she had every intention of throwing this game, but making sure Oliver didn't suspect anything.

"It's a really hard shot," said Oliver in an unabashed attempt to psyche her out. "Not many people can get it in one go. You know, other than say, me."

"It took you seven goes last time," Felicity pointed out wryly. "If we look at the stats on this hole, it takes you an average of four shots to get through this one."

"Not tonight," said Oliver in satisfaction. "And that's what counts."

"You just got lucky," said Felicity blithely as she stepped up and set her ball down on the tee. And if the rest of this night panned out how she was hoping, Oliver wasn't going to be the only one getting lucky tonight. Felicity made sure she took her time getting her ball perfectly on the mark, her backside up in the air. She didn't have to look back at Oliver to know he was enjoying the view. Felicity hid another self-satisfied little smile. Straightening up, Felicity lined up her shot.

"Good luck," called out Oliver. "Hope you don't choke."

Felicity took a few practice swings, gauging the distance and strength for her shot.

"Because it'd be really easy to choke right now," continued on Oliver conversationally. "I mean, everything rides on this one ball… everything. If you get it wrong, I win, which means you lose. So yeah, you really don't want to choke." He smiled innocently at her. "Because it'd be really easy to choke right now."

Felicity just kept concentrating on lining up her shot, her back to him, but she was definitely smiling now. "Just so you know, this is how a pro does it," she sassed him. Felicity swung her club back, ready to take the shot, but just at the last second, she faked a sneeze, causing her to hit the ball wildly. The ball flew off over the little picket fence, and landed in the next hole. "Oh damn!" she said with feigned distress. Felicity looked over at Oliver. "Guess that means you win," she said begrudgingly. "You get your five dates off the ledger." Felicity was about to continue on to suggest changing the number of dates to seven, which would bring them to their twenty date quota, but Oliver was suddenly off and chasing after her ball.

"No, that doesn't count," he said, grabbing her ball from the next hole and jogging back to her. "You get a do over."

"A do over?" repeated Felicity.

Oliver bent over and placed the ball back in front of her. "Yeah, bad shots caused by sneezing don't count as a real go."

Felicity rolled her eyes at Oliver's good sportsmanship as he carefully placed the ball on the tee for her. What did a girl have to do to throw a miniature golf game here?

Oliver straightened up and gave her a boyish smile. "All set?"

Felicity instantly hid her frustration and smiled back at him. "To hand you your butt, absolutely." And if she did this right, she'd be handling that gorgeous butt very, very soon. "You want to step back so you don't get my magnificence on your shoes?"

Oliver laughed. "Talk is cheap. Let's see what you've got, Felicity Smoak."

"That's the plan," murmured Felicity under her breath, picturing them both naked in what she hoped would be a short period of time. Felicity lined up her shot and took it. She'd tried to hit it too softly, but the ball just crept up the hill, managing to climb to the summit. Felicity held her breath as she willed the ball to stop there, but it somehow managed to roll just enough that it rolled down the other side, towards the clown's mouth.

"Ohh… close," said Oliver.

"Mm," said Felicity in annoyance. _Damn her innate golfing ability._ That ball should have stopped on that hill. But she wasn't panicking, there was still the clown to get past. Even as she was thinking that, her ball timed itself perfectly to roll down the clown's extended tongue and disappeared inside the large head. _Oh come on! _Should it really be this difficult to cheat in someone else's favor? Felicity could feel Oliver tense beside her. She was pretty tense herself, and for the same reason. He was worried that the ball would go in, and so was she. The ball made a sudden reappearance, and then headed directly towards the hole. Felicity's eyes went wide as she willed the stupid thing to stop. The ball rolled all the way up to the hole, and then just teetered on the edge. The ball wavered on the precipice, and then at the last moment, rolled backwards.

"Yes!" hissed Oliver in excitement.

"Yes!" exclaimed Felicity, and then quickly remembered that she was meant to be disappointed. "I mean, no!"

Oliver turned to her, his expression triumphant. "I won!"

"Just," huffed Felicity in mock distress.

"Doesn't matter," gloated Oliver. "Still counts." He grinned at her. "I get those five dates off our twenty date quota. Sorry, you don't get your free pass."

Felicity wasn't even bothered by that fact. With how Oliver had been with her mother today, the way he'd handled everything, Felicity just felt so much more secure in the fact that Oliver's love for her could encompass all the mistakes and missteps of her past. Even that really big one. Just thinking about that mistake tied Felicity's stomach up in knots, but she valiantly ignored it. That was a problem for another day. Right now she had a prize to claim, because even though Oliver didn't realize it, she was the real winner tonight. "You know, I was thinking about the five date thing—"

"Oh no," said Oliver quickly, "you don't get to renegotiate. The deal was five dates, and it's going to stay at five dates. You can't talk me down from that number."

That was convenient, because she was looking to up the number. "I was just thinking that—"

"Oh no you don't," said Oliver firmly. "The final number of dates is a discussion that isn't going to happen. It's a done deal. No further negation will be entered into."

Felicity screwed up her nose. _Okay, how hard was it to give away dates to this guy?_ "But—" Oliver silenced her protest with a hard kiss. Felicity quickly forgot what she was meant to be arguing about, wrapping her arms around his neck and returning his kisses. Oliver buried his fingers in her hair, deepening the kiss. Felicity dropped the golf club she was still holding and molded her body into his.

Oliver gave a stifled groan against her lips, and then broke the kiss. "Okay," he panted, looking a little dazed, "good game. To the victor goes the spoils, huh?"

Felicity smiled up at him sexily. "I'm definitely looking for you to spoil more than one thing tonight, Mr. Queen." Alright, so she'd been shooting for a sexy double entendre with that one, but she may have missed her mark. Oliver was looking a little confused, and Felicity couldn't blame him.

Oliver gave a crooked little smile. "You don't get to be mad at me for winning tonight," he teased her. "Not after the way you were such a bad winner last time."

"No, that isn't what—" Felicity stopped herself from saying anymore. Clearly her seduction technique needed work if Oliver couldn't tell he was being seduced. Damn it, Oliver made it look so easy. She made it seem like Chinese algebra. Felicity took a deep breath. "Why don't we celebrate your win?" She smiled up at him. "Just to prove what a graceful loser I am."

Oliver cocked his head. "What did you have in mind?"

_Naked sweaty sex._ Felicity had to take a moment to make sure she hadn't said those words out loud, but when Oliver just continued to look at her expectantly she realized that must have just been the voice screaming in her head. "We could go back to my place, and break open the pistachio wine. I've been waiting for an occasion special enough to open it."

"Your birthday present from random guy when you were fourteen?" Oliver smiled. "Wow, I'm honored." He paused. "Does pistachio wine age well?"

"Only one way to find out," said Felicity huskily. She didn't care about the wine, she just wanted an excuse to have Oliver in her house so she could do bad things to him. It was amazing, after all the restraint she'd shown with Oliver, now that she'd decided to let her guard down completely, all of that willpower had just evaporated. Felicity didn't even know how she'd managed to keep all these rampant feelings at bay up until now, but the floodgates were well and truly open now, and there was nothing left to do but to ride the wave.

Oliver hesitated. "Don't you have a nut allergy?"

"Not to pistachios." Felicity shrugged. "Don't know why but pistachios don't have any effect on me."

"Good, I don't want us ending up in an ER tonight."

"Or maybe you do," said Felicity throatily, imagining endless energetic sex that might require medical treatment afterwards.

Oliver looked at her blankly. "No, pretty sure I don't want to be hospitalized tonight." He gave her an uncertain look. "You don't want that either, do you?"

She really was horrendously bad at this flirting thing. Instead of being turned on, Oliver was now vaguely worried she wanted to see him hurt. Felicity needed to change the course of this conversation and quickly. "Brazilian nuts are the only nut which can cause an allergic reaction if you have sex with a person who's just eaten some," she blurted out, and then blushed. "It gets passed through the mucous membranes," Felicity mumbled. She'd been trying for a sexy fact, but instead just ended up with one which had sex in it… in a really unsexy way. _Way to go, idiot._

Oliver grinned. "Okay, yes, the general knowledge part of our date, awesome. I look forward to this part." He screwed up his face, thinking. "A pregnant goldfish is called a twit."

Felicity bit back a groan at his adorable obliviousness. She wanted to slap him for being so obtuse, but mainly she wanted to slap herself for being so bad at this.

Oliver clicked his fingers as he thought of another one. "Also, Å is the shortest place name in the world and is located in both Sweden and Norway." He looked at her expectantly. "Your turn."

Felicity desperately needed to turn this conversation into more sexy territory. "Other than the genitals and the breasts, the inner nose is the only other body part that routinely swells during intercourse. Because it's made from the same type of erectile tissue as the penis…" she trailed off, feeling her blush deepen. Oliver looked interested, but not exactly aroused. Felicity tried again. "Also, humans aren't the only species that have oral sex. So do cheetahs, hyenas, and goats," she said hastily.

Oliver looked taken aback. "Seriously?" He shrugged. "Weird."

Weird, not sexy. Felicity decided she needed to shut the hell up. This was getting her nowhere.

"Okay, you win. There is no way I can top that."

Felicity wasn't looking to compete in weird animal sex facts. She had other plans for the evening. "So… celebratory pistachio wine it is then?" Maybe her seduction technique would be better if there was alcohol involved? It was hard to imagine it being any worse.

Oliver smiled. "Absolutely."

Okay, this was better, she'd have home court advantage and get this show back on the road. Felicity smiled back at him, hardly able to wait for where this night was going to take them.

**A/N****: Where indeed might this night take them? Only one way to find out. ;) **


End file.
